


The First Favor

by Veslya



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Attempted Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, M/M, Plague Rats - Freeform, Questionable Deals With Higher Powers, second-hand pining, they eat people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veslya/pseuds/Veslya
Summary: Somehow Daud had imagined retiring and taking care of a family to be easier, maybe even less dangerous. Too bad everyone else seems to think differently.Maybe he really should have gone to Tyvia instead.





	1. The name

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I came up with a Superhero AU for Dishonored. I scrapped it, took the parts to make something else, rewrote that (partially during Nano), and this is the result.  
> It's finished, I can tell you that much, and it'll probably end up at 10-ish chapters once I'm done editing. Updates once a week unless something gets in the way, which it shouldn't.  
> That's probably everything for now, so... have fun! :3

"It is time." The voice saying this was old, as old as the Void itself. It seemed to originate from everywhere and nowhere at once, resounding in the endless space. The black-eyed boy who had spoken hovered in the air above a fragmented building, something that could have once been the Office of the High Overseer. Formerly a proud structure with strong, seemingly impenetrable walls, it had now been destroyed, defenseless against the ravages of time. Surrounding it was the rest of Dunwall, frozen, fractured, falling apart and sinking into nothingness, accompanied by the mourning sound of whalesong.

Daud rolled his eyes at the unnecessary dramatics, brushing off the familiar red coat he was sure he hadn't worn once in the last two months. "Cut the crap. What is it now?"

The sound stuttered, then stopped, and the Outsider's feet touched the ground. His expression betrayed no sign of emotion, but to Daud his disappointment was almost palpable. It didn't bother him - if the Outsider wanted to be cryptic, he could do it in his spare time, not while interrupting Daud's sleep. He already didn’t get enough of it, getting used to the new situation (not that new anymore, but still disturbing), forcing himself to follow his new routine, settling down...

Sadly the creature was seemingly incapable of taking a hint. "Come find me," the bastard spoke and vanished, exploding into dark shards that were soon lost to the Void.

Grinding his teeth, Daud looked around, searching for signs telling him where the Outsider could have gone. Of course the bastard couldn't simply _tell_ him what he had dragged him here for - that would be too easy. This had to be his revenge for interrupting him and his need for useless attempts at intimidation.

But it had felt good to get him down from his high horse, and Daud would do it again in a heartbeat.

The Void seemed to delight in being featureless, if a place could do such a thing, but finally Daud found it - a way forward. Into the waiting arms of the ruined headquarters of the Abbey of the Everyman, currently located in the Void, in search of a heretical god. What was the worst that could happen?

Several things came to mind immediately, but Daud ignored all of them. Reaching out with both his left hand and his mind, he aimed at the overhead ledge he had spotted. It should be within reach, if barely.

A strange heat washed over his body, the world twisted, and in the next moment he stumbled, barely managing to keep his balance. He had transversed, a strange ability the Outsider had given to him two months ago to ‘prepare him for the tasks ahead of him’. To mess with him, was what Daud believed.

He should have refused back then, he knew, but it had been impossible, considering the rest of the offer. It had been exactly what he had needed, wanted, but never known...

Daud shook his head, trying to dislodge that train of thought. He had a task to focus on: finding the Outsider, hearing what he had to say, and getting out of this place as soon as possible. Shivers kept running down his spine as he looked around, feeling watched by all kinds of unspeakable beings. After all, if the Outsider really existed, who knew what other horrors did?

An opened decorative window almost directly next to him seemed to smile at him, granting him implicit permission to explore the building further. It managed to coax a snort out of him. A window indoors, really? He wasn't sure if it was a result of the actual building's architecture or a quirk of the Void's version, but whatever its origin, safe it was not. Then again, the Outsider didn't have to fear assassins in his own domain, and Daud should have left his old occupation far behind, enough to stop caring about things like this.

He hadn't, obviously.

With a sigh Daud snuck further inside, occasionally stopping his climbing to transverse to a position he couldn't reach otherwise, until he arrived at a great hall. Torches on the walls, their flames frozen in time, illuminated the polished floor and intricately carved wooden walls. Every step Daud took echoed loudly, making him wince every single time and remind himself that this was the Void, no one would hear him here. No one was here.

The walls depicted the Seven Strictures, Daud realized after only a short look, the rules the Abbey swore they lived and breathed by.

Not that they actually did, from what he had seen during his former career. Even Overseers had enemies, and over the years he had seen far more than he had ever wanted to know about how it was possible to break more Strictures than he’d ever known at once.

The walls, though, after that first flash of memories, were far less interesting than the seven pillars in the middle of the room, surrounding what looked at first glance like a dark hole in the ground. This had to be where the Outsider was hiding - it was ominous, out of place, and in a room dedicated to the rules of the religion violently opposing anything related to the so-called god of the Void. The irony probably attracted him like a corpse drew rats.

When Daud approached the pillars, he found stairs, as simple as the room had been subtly intimidating, roughly set in plain stone and leading into what looked like a dark cave. Taking a deep breath, he followed them, hoping he had guessed correctly.

If the Outsider wasn't here, if he had to search even longer, _someone_ would die, or at least be hit by a knife. Daud’s hand strayed into his pocket, closing around the switchblade still in it, but letting go once more after a second. It wouldn't be able to hurt the black-eyed creature - he had made that experience during their first meeting and it was doubtful it had changed in the meantime - but it would make him feel better, and that was good enough for now.

As soon as his feet touched the stairs, his surroundings changed. The walls vanished, revealing once more the blue glow of the Void, while the stone to his feet turned black, jagged, the sharp edges caught in an endless cycle of dissolving and reassembling out of nothingness. Something in the air shifted, turned darker, colder. Daud tasted blood, smoke, and salt, smelled ozone, shivered.

Whatever it was he had witnessed, he didn't like it one bit.

Then the Outsider reappeared, and Daud liked it even less. He sighed. "I found you. So tell me, what is it?"

The creature opened his mouth, his black eyes seemingly staring into Daud's soul. "You are here to learn about the first favor you owe. It's a mystery, one that starts with a name. Vera Moray."

Something pushed Daud with the strength of a car. He fell into the Void, into its eerie stillness, the frozen, ever-shifting islands, and the bottomless abyss. The Mark on his hand burned, the lines blazing blue, blinding him until he didn’t know where he was anymore.

  


Daud gasped, disorientation washing over him until he realized he was in his bed, sitting up and trembling. He looked down, the phantom fire on his hand still fresh in his memory, and saw the Outsider’s Mark fade to black once more. For a moment he simply stared at the sharp black lines, branding him as a heretic, a worshipper of the Outsider, an agent of chaos. A dead man, if the wrong people heard about it, even now, centuries after the witch hunts had officially ended.

The _gift_ of a bored god.

With a sigh Daud let himself fall back into his pillow, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the feeling of dread pooling in his stomach. There he was, reaping what he had sown. Leaving Serkonos, he had left his old business behind too - or so he had thought. But it seemed even gods needed assassins, and this one had finally decided to make use of him.

This was fine. He had assassinated a lot of people. He was used to it. He could kill this 'Vera Moray', whoever she was, and go back to his new, peaceful life.

He couldn't, and the Outsider knew that.

Maybe he wasn't supposed to kill her. That thought filled him with hope. The Outsider had called it a mystery. It was possible something had happened to her, and he was supposed to figure out what it was.

But why would the Outsider order him to investigate something he likely already knew? The Abbey of the Everyman claimed he was all-knowing, all-seeing. If that was the truth, what was his plan?

Then again, with the general incompetency of the Overseers it wasn’t far-fetched to believe they really didn’t know anything at all.

Daud shook his head. Thinking like this wouldn't help him find an answer. His mind was starting to run in circles, turning on itself, searching for an answer he knew he wouldn't find, and it was going to give him a headache if he didn't stop. He needed a plan, a way of dealing with this task, this _favor_ , and the first step to making one was to find out who or what he was dealing with.

This meant research - but as a short glance at the time told him, it would have to wait. It was a Wednesday, he had to get Billie out of bed and make sure she wasn't late for school again. It was a task that would take far more patience than he had left after the Outsider's visit.

But he would make it work. For Billie.

  


Less than half an hour later, he regretted ever getting out of bed.

"Are you sure you don't-"

"I can do this!"

Daud sighed as he watched Billie fight her right arm and her shoelaces at the same time. It didn't look like she was going to win either battle any time soon. In fact, she seemed lost, tearing at the laces as she pulled them back and forth, visibly unsure about what she should do with them. Until now Billie had simply slipped into the shoes and back out without disturbing the bowknot Daud had tied when she hadn't been looking (he had been unwilling to risk a kick to the face but equally uncomfortable about seeing Billie fall because her shoes weren't tied properly), but apparently today was the day she had decided to learn how to do it herself.

She was going to be late for school _again_ if she kept this up.

"What if I just-"

"No, it’s _fine!_ "

Billie's stubbornness was without equal, and Daud wished he had known about it before getting himself into this situation. He still would have taken her in, but at least he would have been able to prepare mentally, if there was such a thing. With their relationship as new and unfamiliar as it was, she refused to let him help directly, preferring to rely on her own skills.

Daud frowned. He wouldn't be able to do anything about her hand, but the knot...

Words wouldn't help here, experience told him. He grabbed his own shoes, forgotten so far in the quest to make Billie's footwear stay where it belonged, and put them down next to her - a coincidence, of course. Keeping his eyes focussed on his shoes as if he wanted to memorize every last scuff, every single speck of dirt, Daud began to tie his own shoelaces with deliberate, careful slowness.

Billie’s annoyed noises cut off as she realized what he was doing, realized her chance. From the corner of his eye he saw the girl begin to carefully copy his movements. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot - the result was crooked, and at some point her right arm had twitched, punching Daud's leg with surprising force and making him freeze trying to suppress his reaction to the sudden pain, refusing to scare her away - but it was functional, and it was something she had done by herself, even if it had been with a bit of guidance.

Daud was proud, incredibly so. The abruptness and intensity of the feeling almost paralyzed him.

"Good job, kid," he managed to say. "Think you can do the other one too?"

She looked up at him, a smile he hadn't even gotten to see vanishing suddenly. Her eyes were wide, going back and forth between his leg and his face, and for a moment Daud feared he had ruined the moment somehow. Had it been too much, too soon?

But then the corners of her mouth twitched back up and she gave him a small smile. It seemed strangely out of place on her face, and it wasn't until Daud felt his own expression change that he knew why. It felt odd, smiling, as if his face wasn't made for it, was fighting him, and only slowly succumbed to the bright feeling forcing its way to the surface.

"I think you might have to show me again."

His scar pulled at his lips in a way he was unfamiliar with, but Daud couldn't get himself to care as his smile broadened and he stepped around Billie to reach her other side.

"Of course, kid."

When they were done, Daud picked up a long, dark glove from a shelf. In response, Billie let out a groan. "Do I have to?"

It was a halfhearted protest, more ritual than actual reluctance. There was no force behind it, so Daud felt secure shrugging it off. "If you don't want the Abbey to come after us, you do."

"Fuck them."

He couldn’t hold back a snort. "I'd rather not." Then he coughed, suddenly acutely aware that Billie was still a child. "I mean..." He should have known he’d regret telling Billie to only avoid using such language when she was at school.

The barely restrained, high-pitched noises that escaped Billie confused Daud until he realized she was giggling. Laughing at his words. Embarrassed heat crept up his neck.

"Oh, but I..." She interrupted herself, gasped for breath and tried again. "What do you mean? I don’t know what that is. Should I… Should I ask a teacher about it?"

Apparently the expression on his face was far more amusing than it had any right to. Billie took one look at it and finally let go of her admittedly weak restraint, laughing until tears fell from her eye. It was strangely heartwarming to see Billie like this. Daud would have liked nothing more than to simply sit back and enjoy this feeling - but they had to leave.

With a heavy heart, he raised his eyebrows. "That would involve telling them what you said. Do I have to remind you that using that kind of language at school will get you in trouble, or are you going to remember _this_ time?"

The sound of Billie's laughter faded away as her expression grew pensive. Then she sighed. "Fuck."

"Eloquent." He held out the glove, made to cover her rather unusual, Void-crafted prosthetic. “So?”

"Fine." Her motions subdued, contrasting her earlier mirth, Billie took it from his hands. It fit, needless to say, like a glove. "I wouldn't have asked, you know? I got it. I got what you meant."

"I noticed."

Too late he realized that his years of practice at keeping a neutral face had suppressed the grin that might have made his words sound less ominous. By then, it was already gone. He tried to force a smile instead, but didn’t even manage to lift the corners of his mouth before realizing that she would see, would know. It would only serve to make it worse.

Attempting to act normal, to distract from the human disaster he was, he reached for her eyepatch, stored on the same shelf he had taken the covering glove from, and held it up. "What about this?"

Hiding the arm was essential - its magical origin was impossible to miss. The eye, on the other hand, unless it was being actively used, looked like a normal glass eye, if made for someone with a very particular taste and the inability to understand that a solidly red eye could potentially alarm people.

Billie snatched the eyepatch of of his hand before he could blink. "Yes! I need that!"

Her enthusiasm had been unexpected. Amusement bubbled up inside of Daud, and he raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

As soon as she had gotten her prize, Billie had turned her back toward him and carefully tugged the eyepatch into the right position. "It's... important. Really important."

 _'Why?'_ Daud almost asked, but managed to hold back at the last second. It was clear from Billie's body language that she didn't want to share, and he wasn't about to risk the still fragile trust between them. The sudden change in attitude between covering the arm and covering the eye was perplexing, of course, but as long as it made her happy...

"If you say so," he said instead with a noncommittal shrug. "Are you ready? Don't forget your bag."

A sigh. "Yes, I'm ready, D-Daud."

If this was what being a parent was like, he thought, warmth filling his chest once more, he wished he could have found Billie a long time ago.

  


Somewhere in the dark, Granny was muttering to herself, shaking her head. It was quiet, her husband was quiet, had been quiet for so long. Around her, her little birdies chattered, their tiny squeaks filling the air. They were her dearies, her little family, and she was their Granny, but with her black-eyed husband staying quiet like this, something was missing.

No matter. He would return, Granny knew. She would have him back, and he would never leave again.

"Dearies!" she she called out to them, silencing their little voices. "It's time to go back to work. Be good, and Granny will give you a gift!"

Their little mouths squeaked, then the pitter-patter of their feet receded as they hurried to do the tasks given by their Granny. Such little dears! She would have to reward them well.


	2. Setting sail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balancing work, family, and supernatural deals is child's play for a proper Da(u)d. Probably.

"You're smiling. Did someone die?" Those were the words Daud's coworker Rulfio greeted him with, with the usual disregard for the unspoken rule that you didn’t call anyone out for their bad habits you weren’t technically supposed to know about. Not that he did...

It wasn't quite as early as it had been when Daud had been rudely awakened by the Outsider, and a cup of coffee had given him the kick he needed to start the day without bloodshed. Still, Rulfio's words made him pause as he tried to figure out if he had actually heard them correctly. "Not as far as I know," he finally responded, choosing his words carefully. "Why, did I miss something?"

The other man shrugged and grinned unapologetically. "The day is still young."

"That it is." Ignoring Rulfio's unusual sense of humor whenever it chose to manifest in this way had proven to be the best course of action, so Daud tried to focus on work instead. He glanced at the monitors in the security room, displaying images recorded by cameras all over the clinical research building of the Dunwall Academy of Natural Philosophy. "Anything specific going on today or more of the usual?"

Rulfio shrugged. "Nothing much. The new intern in lab three is back, the one who keeps dropping things. That's always funny."

It took all of Daud's patience to turn away, inhale deeply, then exhale and let go of his annoyance. Fighting Rulfio at this point would mean taking out his bad mood on him, and he wouldn't do that. The man had some annoying habits, that was true, but despite his words and apparent attitude he took his job seriously.

He also had a knack for reading people, as Daud was reminded only a second later. 

"Bad night?"

Daud looked back at him, and for a moment he could have sworn he spotted a look of concern on Rulfio's face. Was he actually worried? 

With a bit of effort Daud forced a smile onto his face. "You could say that." Surely a heretic god visiting him in his dreams and giving him a cryptic task, only to violently shove him out of the Void immediately after, counted as a bad night. Or a bad life, maybe - this was the first time it had happened since he had taken the Mark, but Daud had little doubt that the Outsider could show up again whenever he felt like it. After all, that was how he'd met the bastard.

Rulfio's expression had turned thoughtful. Calculating too, though Daud wasn't sure whether he should chalk that up to his own suspicious nature. He had already misread several situations before, and the results hadn't necessarily been pleasant. Apparently people didn’t like being stalked, who would have guessed?

At least they hadn’t noticed it had been him. He hadn’t lost his touch after all.

Finally Rulfio shook his head, took a deep breath, and asked, "Do you have plans this evening?"

Plans? Daud couldn't say that he had. There had been a half-baked idea of researching the name Vera Moray, to see what the Outsider had intended when he had tasked Daud with figuring out that 'mystery', but it wasn't hard to see that in his current state of mind he wouldn't get far. Other than that...

"I'll have to help Billie with her homework. After that I'm free though. Why?"

Rulfio shrugged, seemingly without a care in the world. "We could meet up somewhere, talk. You look like you need it." Daud hesitated long enough for him to add: "The Hound Pits Pub down in the Old Port District is a good place - small, quiet, good drinks. What do you think?"

Going out for drinks with... other people (Daud was unwilling to call Rulfio a friend - he didn't have much experience with those) sounded like something a normal person with a normal life would do. Was that who he was now?

He thought of Billie, of how skittish she still was around him most of the time. The way she sometimes flinched when he simply looked at her. He didn't know what dark secrets hid in her past - never would know, if she didn't tell him - but he had his assumptions, and it wasn't hard to see that she might have some issues with the thought of him drinking, even if he didn't plan to actually get drunk. Or even drink anything alcoholic.

"I'll think about it." That sounded good - not a no, not a yes, enough wiggling room either way. He could ask Billie what she thought about it, base his decision on that. Talking to someone could help, Daud had heard, and trying couldn't hurt. Maybe Rulfio would even have information on this ‘Vera Moray’, though it seemed unlikely - too easy for something the Outsider was involved in.

If Billie actually agreed - and Daud didn’t think she would, so he was probably safe anyway - his contact to the god would obviously be something he couldn’t mention, as well as several other parts, such as his past. At best he could tell Rulfio a heavily modified, short version of the truth. Still, as long as it could help him calm down and think about his problems with a rational mind, it wasn't a loss.

Rulfio grinned at him and turned to his work station, a slight tremor running through him. Was he cold? 

"Great. Call me when you've decided. My phone number is on the list - knock yourself out."

"Thanks." Daud sat down in front of his own set of screens, planning to note down the number during their lunch break. It would have been a lie to say he was feeling better already, but somehow the pressure on his mind had gotten lighter, the boiling mixture of fear and anger in his stomach colder.

For now it was time to focus on his work, but later… Maybe Rulfio could be something like a friend after all.

  
  


The day had turned out to be exactly as fascinating as Rulfio had predicted. The scientists had done their usual work with no eye-catching explosions involved, a few packets of sugar had been stolen from the cafeteria, a crime they’d decided to ignore this time, and the intern in lab three had dropped what felt like half of the available equipment. All in all, Daud was glad the day was over - it had given him ample opportunity to think about the gravity of his situation, resulting in nothing but restlessness and increasing worry from Rulfio.

Finally, though, it was over. Once he was outside, Daud let out a relieved breath, enjoying the feeling of sunlight on his face.

"If you do want to meet up, just call me," Rulfio told him, already starting up his motorcycle.

Daud nodded. "I will." But his words were lost in the exhaust fumes his coworker left behind.

With a cough and a roll of his eyes Daud turned and made his own way home on foot. Maybe he should look into getting an alternate method of transport for himself and Billie, bikes or a car or something. They’d been lucky enough to find a home that was in walking distance of both Billie’s school and the university, but it wouldn't be summer forever and he'd heard that winters in Dunwall were freezing.

Then again, if the roads were iced over, a car wouldn't help either.

Daud frowned. They'd have to get warmer clothes soon. He had enough to at least get through autumn, but Billie... He'd taken her in with the clothes she'd been wearing and not much else. And she was growing. Wasn't there something about a growth spurt during puberty? They'd have to take that into consideration.

Sighing, he shook his head. That was something else he could discuss with Billie. The list was growing longer and longer...

Maybe he should actually research what he had to expect when raising a child - there had to be things you had to watch out for. Traps, pitfalls, good advice, anything to make him feel less like he was going to ruin everything with a wrong word. It sounded like something he should do soon - possibly while looking into Vera Moray, if he was already at it.

He mulled over this for a while until his steps came to a stop and he looked up to face a door. Had he made it home already? Apparently he had been more distracted by his thoughts than he’d expected.

Shrugging, he entered the building they’d rented an apartment in. As usual, finding the door unlocked came as an unpleasant surprise - but he reminded himself that it was alright. Expected, really - Billie’s school finished up far earlier than his work. She was already home, evidenced by her shoes she had left in the corner as well as the discarded glove and eyepatch back in its spot on the shelf, and she had no reason to lock the door when she was expecting him. The neighborhood was safe. There was no danger. Everything was alright.

He focused and heard the scratching of a pen on paper.

"I'm home," he called out, voice carefully modulated to make his presence known without being too loud. After all, he was not the only one who could be worried about an unwelcome intruder.

The door closed behind him, Daud worked his way out of his shoes, went over to Billie’s room and knocked on the frame, making sure to stay outside. "Did you eat?"

She turned, eyes twitching, measuring, to check how close he had gotten, and nodded. "At school, and later a sandwich."

"May I come in?"

The shadow of a smile played around her lips. "If you bring tea."

Daud pushed away from the door again, chuckling. "I'll see what I can do. Your usual?"

She hummed an agreement, already looking back at her homework. It was for show though, as the tilt of her head betrayed - her senses were trained on him, trying to see if he was going to enter anyway. 

It was clear she still didn't trust him completely, but Daud couldn’t blame her. At the beginning, it had taken some time for him to realize he was making her feel uncomfortable by simply entering without permission. If there was one thing he wanted to avoid, it was that. And hurting her. And doing something wrong, having her taken away, his past catching up with him…

Alright, maybe there were more things he wanted to avoid.

He turned, heading for the kitchen. Before Billie, tea hadn't been something he indulged in often - but from the first sip she had tried, she had fallen in love with the drink. Black tea, green tea, herbal and fruit infusions of all kinds, she loved them. Her favourite was a raspberry infusion he’d found a few weeks ago, sweetened with sugar, and this was what he prepared for her as soon as the water was boiling.

Taking out a small tray, he paused for a moment, remembering how he’d brought it home as soon as he’d realized that drinking tea with Billie was going to become a regular affair. The smile that had overcome her face at that…

Shaking himself out of the reverie before he could get too caught up, Daud looked around, searching for the sugar. Where had it vanished to? Frowning, he reached over to pick two apples from the bowl he kept them in and caught sight of it - on the windowsill. How had it gotten there?

He added it to the tray with a chuckle along with the apples, then checked his watch. His own tea, black, was done already, steam rising up from the mug as he removed the bag. The warm smell tickled his nose and drew a smile onto his face. Half a year ago, if someone had told him that soon he’d have a daughter and a peaceful life far away from Serkonos and its underworld, he would have... 

He didn't know what he’d have done. Even now his life seemed like a strange dream, one he could wake up from at any moment. He had to enjoy every last moment, before it was somehow all taken away.

The smile faded from his face. If anyone ever found out about his past, it would be his downfall, the ruin of everything he had built up here. The Outsider had claimed it would be hidden,  _ he _ would be hidden, from anyone who wasn't touched by the Void. They would forget about him, or be led in circles with no chance of ever finding what they were looking for, if anything that creature said could be believed. But trusting the words of an overly cryptic god who appeared in his dreams seemed like a supremely bad idea.

Not that he had much room to complain, having accepted the deal in the first place. And now it was time to pay for it...

No, he reminded himself, checking the time once more. Now it was time to bring Billie her tea, to help her with her homework and draw some more ships. He had gotten good at that, with all the uses his skills found.

With Billie's tea on the tray as well, he made his way back to her room and knocked once more. "I've brought tea. May I come in now?"

Billie turned, caught sight (and smell, judging by the way her nose twitched) of the cups, and nodded, her magical eye gleaming despite the lack of obvious light sources. "Alright, come in!"

Carefully balancing the tray, unwilling to spill any of his precious cargo, Daud entered and crossed the room, coming to a stop next to her desk. Billie shuffled some of her papers out of the way to make room for the tray before squinting at it. "Apples?"

"Apples," Daud confirmed and put it down before pulling up a second chair and seating himself to her right. "How is it going?"

Billie scowled. "Great."

The silence between them built while Daud waited for her to crack and tell him where she was having trouble. Finally he was rewarded by a deep sigh. "What's the big deal about the Morley Insurrection? I have to write an essay about the way it impacted the other Isles, but I don't even know what happened! They talked about it last year, and now they just expect everyone to know this stuff."

Daud frowned. The Morley Insurrection - the events that led to the end of the Empire, if he remembered correctly. Assassins had been involved at several points, and they had been a significant portion of his teachers’ lessons on historical assassinations, on what to do and what to avoid. He still didn’t like to think about them

Luckily he could at least avoid talking about them, instead focussing Billie’s attention of another detail that might catch her interest. “You see, Morley didn’t want to be part of the Empire of the Isles anymore and attempted a revolution. There were a lot of sea battles-”

“Sea battles?!” She interrupted him, excited until she realized what she had done. Immediately she shrunk back, hunching her shoulders. “I’m sorry…”

Daud attempted an encouraging smile, hoping it wouldn’t look too threatening. “It’s fine. I guessed that might get your attention.” His voice was kept low, calming, hopefully gentle. “Yes, sea battles. I don’t know much about those specifically, but we can find a book, if you’d like.”

Looking back at him through the bangs covering her face, Billie shrugged carefully. “I don’t need one.”

“That’s alright too. You can think about it. Until then, would you like to hear more about the Morley Insurrection?” He kept the smile on his face, trying to seem as harmless as he could despite his closeness, obvious bulk, and previous occupation.

At her agreement, he tried to remember everything he could and put it into words. “A hundred years ago, Morley felt exploited by Gristol, and so…”

Explaining the intricacies of the Morley Insurrection in as much detail as he remembered didn't take as long as Daud had expected, and he made a note on his growing mental list of things to do. Billie would need a book about this, or something else that could tell her everything she needed to know for school.

When he was finished, looking down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him while Billie was writing her essay, deciding what to draw for her wasn't hard at all. With the practiced focus of someone who had drawn at least one ship a day for almost a month he sketched the outline of a Morleyan battleship, cleaned it up and began to fill in details.

He’d talk to Billie later.

  
  


"I'm done!" Billie finally exclaimed while Daud was putting the finishing touches on his drawing. "At least I think I am…”

"Good job, kid." After checking the shading with a critical eye, he looked up. "Do you want me to look through it?"

"Uh... no, it's fine, you don't... no, thanks." Her school work was stowed away in record time. Daud bit back a grin as she turned back to him. "So... what did you draw?" It was obvious that she was trying to sound nonchalant - trying and failing badly, considering the way she bounced on her chair.

Still carefully holding back any sign of amusement he passed her the paper and was rewarded with a bewildered frown. "Is that... a paper boat? You drew a paper boat on paper?"

Daud was very proud of the boat. The shading was excellent. What was he supposed to do instead,  _ fold _ the paper? Still, maybe he should tell her.

"You can turn it around, if you want."

Frowning, she threw him a deeply suspicious look, then did as he had suggested. Almost immediately her face lit up. "Wow! That's..."

"A Morleyan battleship, to fit your essay." Finally he let the grin show on his face. "Do you... I hope you like it."

"I love it! Thanks, Dad!"

Daud began to shrug but froze, movement incomplete. Had she really said...? He stared into her mismatched eyes, as wide as his own probably were.

His thoughts were a jumble of conflicting emotion - had she really meant it? Was that how she saw him? What if it was a misunderstanding? What if he did something wrong, ruined it? What should he do, how was he supposed to react? But she had called him Dad - was this a sign that this was going to work out, that he was finally doing something right?

"I... I mean Daud."

And all of his thoughts came to a stop. Of course it had only been an accident, a slip of her tongue. She wouldn't... it’d be best to act like this had never happened. It was close, there were bound to be accidents, slips of tongues...

He shrugged again, avoiding to look in her direction. "That's nice to hear." Hesitating for a moment, he continued: "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

The sound of bone scraping over wood made him look back up, and he realized that maybe eye contact would be useful for this conversation. And he should have chosen a different way to set this up. Billie was clearly trying to avoid showing her emotions once more, but she couldn't stop herself from chewing on her lower lip and gripping the table tightly enough to leave marks.

"It's nothing bad," Daud added as soon as he noticed, trying to defuse the situation. "Just... it's going to get colder soon, and we should get new clothes for you, ones that are warm enough for winter."

It took a few moments for Billie to let go of her lip and respond. When she did, she wasn't particularly enthusiastic. "Is that really necessary? How cold does it get?"

"Colder than Cullero - a lot colder." He attempted a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine." What exactly was going to be fine, he didn't know, but the words sounded like they would be generally comforting.

Billie shrugged and looked to the side. "If you say so..."

Not a success, then. Time for the next distraction.

"Oh, and I just remembered," he said as if he hadn't thought about it the entire time, "a colleague from work wanted to meet up this evening. Would that be alright with you?"

Every twitch and every expression she made was taken and carefully analyzed. There was surprise, but also fear and uncertainty. Daud prepared to receive a no, to call Rulfio and tell him that he couldn't make it, but then her features changed into something that looked a lot like determination. "Yes, sure. Go ahead."

He blinked. "Are you sure?" This reeked of trust, and that simply couldn't be true. After all, she still had reservations about him, he knew that. So... what was this?

"Sure." Somehow Billie seemed to have gained confidence in the last few seconds. Her voice grew stronger. "Have fun. I can take care of myself."

Trust in her ability to do just that was not what Daud lacked. But if she was fine with it...

"Alright." He smiled at her and waved towards the tray with the now empty cups on it. "I'll just get rid of this. Do you want the last apple?"

Billie quickly grabbed and bit into it. Chewing, she grinned up at him. "Sure!"

The snort escaping him surprised him as much as it did her. "Great. Don't talk with your mouth full," he managed to remember to say, then escaped with the tray before the urge to pat her head overwhelmed him.

It was strange - he had never felt the need to touch anyone, to show affection. Then again, he had never had anyone to show it to.

Frowning, he let his feet carry him into the kitchen and set down the tray. He had a phone call to make. He just hoped Rulfio hadn’t already made other plans.

  
  


Granny looked around, admiring the skittering, beautiful bodies of her family spread out through the room. The noise behind her was rather concerning - what if it disturbed them? Unthinkable - but it seemed like they didn’t seem to mind it too much. Still, Granny would have to make it up to them...

"Come here, my little birdies! Granny will feed you, dearies."

Her darlings gathered around her, pitter-patter of their tiny feet a balm to her soul, as the wailing behind her rose to new heights.

"Such a rude houseguest, isn't he, dearies?"

She could see herself through their eyes, a million impressions of Granny. A million kindnesses. Would her black-eyed husband like that?

"Have a treat, little birdies."

Thousands of eyes blinked as one, then Granny's little birdies turned towards the source of the screams, the source of their mistress' annoyance. Their food.

Granny Rags returned to her body, the world around her fading to black once more. The sound of her darlings enjoying their meal stayed with her, slowly drowning out those pesky screams.

She sighed, filled with gladness that her family was prospering, and began to hum a song that reminded her of her youth.


	3. An Evening Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That went well, decided Daud, making it clear to everyone that he lacked the most important skill when it came to human interaction: understanding what in the Void was going on.

Daud looked around, then squinted at the building in front of him. 'The Hound Pits Pub' - that was the name Rulfio had given him, and that was the name written in worryingly sparking neon letters on the wall. Half of the windows were nailed shut with wood planks, the glass either broken or missing, the other half too stained to see through beyond the faint shimmer of light coming from the inside. In some places, the wall was stained with substances Daud didn't care to study closer, wary of what he might see. All in all, the sight didn't inspire confidence.

Caught up in his thoughts, wondering if this really was the right place, Daud almost missed the quick steps approaching him from behind, followed by the weight of an arm on his shoulders. He reacted.

"Hey Daud, nice to see you could- oomph!" Rulfio's words were cut off when Daud's elbow impacted with his stomach, doubling him over and forcing the air from his lungs with all the viciousness a trained fighter could manage. Free once more, Daud merely blinked, otherwise keeping a neutral expression. He almost felt bad for Rulfio - almost.

"Didn't see you there."

"I noticed," Rulfio wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "Nice elbow you've got there."

That wasn't even worth an answer. Daud shrugged and turned to look at him. "This is the place?"

Nothing, it seemed, could dim Rulfio's cheerful disposition for long, not even unexpected violence. "Sure! I know, it doesn't look like much, but the inside is better. Besides, I get a discount on the drinks."

Did he now. "Trying to get me drunk, Duarte?"

Rulfio chuckled. "Not on our first date." He paused, as if he was waiting for a reaction. At this point, though, Daud was so used to Rulfio's sense of humor that he immediately recognised this as the joke it was. His expression didn't change. 

After a few seconds of silence, the other man huffed. "Alright, let's go in." He opened the door and stood back, holding it for Daud. "Age before beauty."

"I'm flattered."

Daud entered and looked around. It did appear less shabby on the inside, though that could be due the fact that it being worse would have been close to impossible. The lighting was functional, no dead animals could be seen, and the liquid in the other patrons' glasses didn't seem to mostly consist of river water. He had been to worse places - though he hadn't been there to get a drink.

The liquid he’d been after had been slightly different...

At the sound of the door opening, the bartender looked up. He frowned at Daud, but when Rulfio followed him, his expression turned into a broad smile. "Rulfio, you little rascal! It's been a while! Brought one of your conquests, have you?" He put the rag he had been holding down and stepped out from behind the bar, opening his arms wide. "Welcome, welcome," he laughed, oblivious to Daud's raised eyebrows and scowl. "Any friend of Rulfio's is a friend of mine!"

"Ha!" Laughing loudly, Rulfio stepped in front of Daud, who found the gesture rather… irritating. He didn’t need to be protected! Rulfio didn’t seem to notice. "Domenico, funny as always! Ha! This is Daud, a... colleague. Domenico, Daud Foster; Daud, Domenico. He's the owner of this fine establishment." His words had gotten faster and faster, and if he hadn't been the one to pick this place and clearly well-acquaintanced with it, Daud would have thought he was nervous.

"Colleague?" Domenico boomed, seemingly delighted by this bit of information. "What do you do nowadays, that you have one of those? Or is it another word for 'partner' now? Isn't he-"

"Security at the Academy of Natural Philosophy."

There was a moment of silence after Rulfio’s words. Daud felt what seemed like the eyes of everyone in the room on him and had to suppress a shudder. Maybe he should simply turn around and leave those two to it?

"Security? You?!" The volume of Domenico's laughter made Daud wince. When he looked back at him, the man had pulled Rulfio in a headlock. "Are you telling me you're going lega- aah!"

Rulfio had stomped on his foot, twisted out of the hold, and was now glaring at Domenico. "Can we please just get something to drink here, or do we have to go somewhere else?"

"Go somewhere else?" Domenico now mirrored Rulfio's expression, and Daud was struck by the realization how similar they looked. The same prominent cheekbones, the same aquiline nose, the same combination of annoyance and fury on their faces. It was uncanny.

A similar uncontrollable temper too, if that  _ conversation _ was anything to go by. If no one decided to intervene soon, Daud thought, it looked like there was going to be a bar fight.

He sighed, preparing to stop them, but was caught off-guard by Domenico's sudden laughter. "You haven't changed a bit, you scamp! Go to your usual table already, and get comfortable." The man's hand hit Rulfio's shoulder, causing him to stumble. Daud wondered if it had been meant as a friendly gesture or an attack. At this point, who could tell?

Rulfio sighed, and when he moved, turning his back at the barkeeper, Daud followed. He felt the tension slowly leave his body, now that a fight didn't seem to be part of their near future anymore. Still, a tiny part of it stayed. You never knew...

'The usual table' was in a corner dark enough to give it the illusion of privacy. Daud had made deals at tables like this before. He’d slit throats there, too.

They sat down. Rulfio immediately buried his face in his hands. "Please ignore my uncle," he muttered. "He's always like that."

"Your uncle?" That would explain the resemblance, and also the discount. "He's... something." A lot of things, all of them loud and prominent in their own way. He reminded him of Rulfio, too, but it didn't seem like he'd appreciate the comparison.

With a roll of his eyes Rulfio looked back up. "That he is. How's Billie?"

The attempt to change the topic was as subtle as a fist to the face, but seeing as Daud had no intention of finding out more about this Domenico and enjoyed talking about Billie more than anything else, he was perfectly alright with it. "She's fine," he replied, not even attempting to hide the soft smile spreading on his face at the thought of her. "I think we're starting to get along, you know? She actually called me Dad today, but I guess she just wanted to say my name and misspoke."

Rulfio didn't move and simply stared at him.

"What?"

"You..." He shook his head. "Nevermind. That's great. One day she'll call you Dad and mean it and you won't realize."

Daud had the vague feeling that he was missing something, but didn't get to ask as Domenico showed up again. "Incoming!" he shouted, throwing menus at Rulfio's head before vanishing once more, his short appearance enough to make Rulfio look like he regretted all of his life choices.

"If I'd known he'd be here today," he muttered before shaking his head. "Sorry about that. Anyway, do you already know what you want?"

Not knowing how to react to that, Daud shrugged. He’d held the menu for only a few seconds, which was probably not enough time to even start looking through it.

Rulfio seemed to take his silence as permission to talk more. Launching into a description of what sounded like every single item on the menu, he was only stopped by Daud's objection that he really wasn't planning to drink any alcohol at all. This worked for exactly two seconds.

"Oh, there's also the-"

Raising a hand, Daud shook his head. He wouldn't be able to take in another wave of information like that. "Just... a recommendation, maybe? One?"

Rulfio grinned, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry. The apple soda is good - my other uncle makes it himself, from Morleyan apples."

"That sounds good." Daud looked around, partly out of habit, to look for possible escape routes, dangers and anything else that could get in the way, but mostly to digest Rulfio's chatter. Despite their interest in the beginning, during Domenico's... greeting, no one seemed to be interested in them anymore. A low murmur had taken over the room, creating a surprisingly relaxed atmosphere.

Too relaxed, as it turned out, because Daud almost missed that someone had stepped up to their table to take their orders. It seemed that even the last bit of tension had left him.

Dangerous, but… not exactly unappreciated right now. This place was safe, right?

"Hey, Uncle Nicholas!" Rulfio greeted, and for a moment Daud feared there was going to be more insanity. But this uncle seemed almost normal, wearing an apron and a smile as well as holding a small notepad. There certainly was no booming, and it didn't look like there were going to be headlocks involved either.

"Hello, Rulfio. Nice to see you again - it's been a while," the man replied. "And you must be Daud. I've heard a lot about you in the last minute." The look he sent over his shoulder towards the bar was filled with exasperation, but also fondness.

Daud nodded curtly. What else was he supposed to do?

Rulfio, as expected, had something to say to fill the silence. "Did you lock Domenico in the kitchen?"

His uncle's smile broadened into a grin. "Don't worry, you're safe now. So, do you know your order yet?"

"That depends - do you still make that apple soda?"

"The Morleyan? Sure. One or two?"

"One, and I'll have some mulberry mead."

"Great, it'll be right up!"

When the man had left, Rulfio turned back to Daud. "I hope you didn't mind me placing your order for you."

Daud shrugged. "As long as it's the right one..."

As if he had only noticed now, Rulfio gasped. "Right, the plan, secretly getting you drunk... damn." He grinned. "Looks like that'll have to wait until our second date."

That was another joke Daud proceeded to ignore. Casting about for something to say, he finally settled for something simple. "Your family owns this place?"

Rulfio shrugged. "My uncles, yes. Got it from the previous owner who wanted to shut it down a few years ago and are keeping it alive. They met here, you know? It's all part of some grand romantic gesture."

"Interesting..." Daud didn't quite know what to do with that information. Romance had never been his strong point. Luckily he was saved by the reappearance of Rulfio's uncle Nicholas, who placed their drinks in front of them, winked at Rulfio, and vanished again.

Maybe he wasn't as normal as Daud had originally assumed.

"Does that mean you come here often?" he asked next.

Rulfio, who had just taken a sip from his drink, choked on it. Unwilling to let him die just yet, Daud thumped his back until his coughs turned into wheezing breaths, then withdrew again. What had caused that?

"Are you alright?"

It took a moment, but finally Rulfio answered. "I... yes. You... don't do that!"

"Do what?" Daud frowned.

The look Rulfio threw him was deeply suspicious, but it didn't tell Daud what he had done to deserve it. Finally Rulfio sighed. "Nothing. Actually, why are you asking all the questions? Didn't we originally come here to talk about what's been distracting you?"

Daud shrugged, hiding his face behind his glass. The apple soda was cool, tart, with a hidden sweetness and cinnamon. In other words, it was better than anything he would have imagined to be able to get in a place like this. It also made for a great excuse to avoid talking.

"Good, isn't it? Now spill - what's eating you?"

Setting the glass down once more, Daud sighed. "I did something stupid a while back, and now I'm going to have to pay for it." Because that was the problem, wasn't it? He'd made a deal with a dark god. No one in their right mind did that.

Rulfio furrowed his brow. "So it's money?"

Deciding to jump in at the deep end, Daud shook his head. "Have you ever heard of someone called Vera Moray?"

Almost before he had even finished saying the name, Rulfio's hand covered his mouth. While a small part of Daud admired his reflexes, the rest registered how pale the other man had suddenly gotten, how wide his eyes were. What had the Outsider thrown him into?

"Don't say that name," Rulfio hissed. "Call her Granny Rags if you have to. Did you make a deal with her? Outsider's balls" - and didn't that image cause Daud to wince - "did you call her that to her face? How are you still alive?!"

Daud pushed his hand away. "I didn't make a deal with her. I owe a favor to... someone else, and they gave me that name, nothing else. And I can't back out of it."

"Shit. Fuck. Granny Rags." Rulfio shook his head. "Fuck," he said once more, with feeling. "What are you supposed to do?"

Shrugging, Daud concentrated on Rulfio's forehead, unwilling to look him in the eyes. "I'm not sure. They're a cryptic little shit. Maybe I'm supposed to make some kind of deal with her, maybe just find her. Maybe..." He trailed off, shrugging once more.

Maybe he was supposed to kill her, but telling Rulfio about that possibility seemed like a bad idea.

Rulfio sighed. "Fuck," he repeated. "I'd like to tell you to run away to another country instead - I hear Tyvia is nice this time of year - but I'm guessing that's not an option?"

Daud shook his head. Escaping the Outsider was futile if he could simply show up in his dreams.

"Great. Just wonderful. Brilliant.” Sighing again, Rulfio looked down at his glass. “I know some things, if that's the case, but definitely not enough for whatever you're actually going to do." He hesitated, then gulped the rest of his drink down all at once. "I need more alcohol for this, but I guess that's gotta be enough. So, Granny Rags. Ruler of the underworld, obsessed with rats - or birdies, as she calls them. I'm not even gonna try to make sense of that. She's fucking scary, fucking powerful, and there are rumors that she's immortal. Wouldn't exactly believe that, but she's survived a lot. She's cunning, at least."

"What do those rumors say?" Immortality was impossible, Daud knew, but so was the ability to teleport - or transverse, as he had taken to calling it. An eye made of stone that could see more than what was in front of it wasn't natural, but it existed on Billie's face. If they had received boons from higher powers, who was to say that others couldn't?

"Really fucked-up stuff," Rulfio answered, shaking his head. "She shows up out of nowhere, turns into rats... some claim she sees through their eyes. You know, like magic. According to the rumor mill, she's a witch - the evil, cackling, child-eating kind."

"Sounds charming."

A snort answered him. "Yeah, sure. Anyway, as I said, she rules the underworld with an iron fist. Every pickpocket, every thief, black market dealers, everyone who makes money doing even slightly illegal things pays her a tribute, and in return they can bargain for favors and won't immediately be killed and eaten by rats." Rulfio shuddered. "She can always be found somewhere, but the place switches every few weeks, so I really don't know. You'd have to find someone who works for her, or maybe for Slackjaw and his Bottle Street Gang."

That was a new name. "Slackjaw?" Daud asked. That sounded like the nickname of someone who was either too weak to make people stop calling him that - unlikely if people worked for him - or someone powerful and well-known enough for the name to be feared anyway.

Daud was starting to regret having kept his distance from the less savoury parts of Dunwall since coming here. He hadn't wanted his life to turn back into what it had been before, cutting himself off from the source of temptation, but now he was at a clear disadvantage.

"Oh, Slackjaw is just Granny Rags' nemesis or something, the only gang leader powerful or dumb enough to fight her now and again. As far as I know, he's still alive - Outsider knows how - so if you're planning to move against Granny Rags somehow" - Rulfio paled even more at that thought - "you should probably find him first." He took a deep breath, a slight tremor running through his body. "Any questions? And please don't ever mention to anyone I was the one to tell you all this."

Daud did indeed have a lot of questions, but as Rulfio had already said, he'd have to find someone else to answer them. "No, thanks," he said instead, frowning down at his drink. "I... didn't expect you to know that much."

Giving a noncommittal shrug, Rulfio lifted his glass again, only to lower it once more when he realized it was empty. "Yeah..."

Then they were silent, Rulfio seemingly completely focused on the glass his hands were now playing with, Daud studying their surroundings. A table close to them had gained activity and people at some point during Rulfio's explanations, and caught between the awkwardness surrounding them and the looming threat of having to take on the person who controlled the dark side of Dunwall (and probably had supernatural abilities like his own, only better, because why else would the Outsider send him after her?), Daud decided to take a third option and eavesdrop. They seemed to be sailors, judging by their clothes. Maybe he'd hear something interesting he could tell Billie about?

"Your knee still giving you trouble, huh? A friend of mine swears by diluted whale oil."

"Diluted what? I'd rather use river krust acid!"

"Calm down, wrap an eel around it. Next you'll be swearing by the tears of a virgin."

"Speaking of virgin, see who's joined us!"

Everyone turned towards one of the newcomers, an old, weathered man still wearing a beige coat.

"Come on, tell us - that slip of a girl still coming by, claiming she's a pirate?"

Though the conversation was going almost too fast for Daud to understand what was going on, this sounded interesting. A girl who claimed she was a pirate? Maybe he could arrange a meeting between her and Billie; it sounded like they'd get along.

The addressed man shook his head. "What's the matter, Joakim? Finally having second thoughts about shooing her away?"

Joakim snorted. "Hardly. But why would a flea like her actually be interested in ships, huh?"

A chuckle went through the assembled men, but the old man didn't join in. "Oh, we all know you're just interested in getting into Stride's bed and hoped a fancy ship would make that easier. But little Billie is a good girl."

He was still talking, Daud noted distantly, but none of his words registered. Little Billie... a girl named Billie who loved ships? Was it... did she...?

He nudged Rulfio. When he had gotten his attention, he pointed towards the table of sailors. "Do you know them?"

"The old sailors? Sure, they're here almost every day. Why?"

For a moment Daud hesitated. It was possible there was another girl vaguely similar to his daughter, small and filled with a love for ships too strong for her body to hold. Another Billie.

Unlikely, at least if there was a far easier explanation for it called ‘Billie sneaking out and hopefully not getting in trouble’.

"The one on the left, with the light coat. Who's that?"

"That? It's old Samuel, Samuel Beechworth. Used to be in the Navy." Rulfio looked back at Daud. "Why do you ask?"

Daud shrugged and took a sip of his apple soda. It was going to be finished soon - a shame. He’d have to come back here. "Just curious. Does he have some kind of ship or boat or anything?"

"Everyone on that table has one. Are you going to stop beating around the bush any time soon?" An eyebrow raised, Rulfio didn't seem to be impressed by Daud's subtlety. To be fair, it wasn’t one of his best attempts at it.

Daud sighed. "If I wanted to introduce Billie to someone who knows a lot about ships, would he be a good choice?"

Rulfio started and frowned, apparently not having expected that question. He took a few moments to answer. "I've never seen him with children," he finally said, "but he's a good man. Kind, patient, that kind of thing. Definitely wouldn't be the worst choice. Do you want me to introduce you?"

Shaking his head, Daud leaned back. "No, thanks, that’s not necessary. I was just thinking."

Rulfio shrugged. "Alright then, if you say so." He still wasn't talking as much as Daud was used to, which, for some reason, disturbed him. Shaking his head, he decided that it was probably the reminder of the things Rulfio had told him. Maybe he should cut this night short.

"Actually," they both said at the same time before falling silent again.

"You first." Rulfio gestured for Daud to begin.

He took a deep breath, then let it out again. "I was thinking of calling it a day - a night, whatever. It's getting late, and I don't really like leaving Billie alone for too long. I know she can take care of herself, but..."

Rulfio grinned broadly. "Sure! That's what I was going to say! It's getting late, the moon is high - should really be careful with all that weed - it's time to leave. We should do this again!"

"We should," Daud agreed, and for a moment he saw Rulfio freeze, eyes wide. At this point far too done with the world to even begin to analyze this, he simply added it to the list of unusual things about this day (first five items on that list: Domenico) and finally emptied his glass of soda, the taste of Morleyan apples lingering on his tongue.

Rulfio waved a hand towards the bar, then turned to Daud. "Alright, ready to leave? They'll add it to my tab."

Was it supposed to be like this? It seemed to Daud that he should protest. "That's-"

"Instead of objecting, next time you can pay." Rulfio seemed to have prepared for Daud’s objections and had those words ready as soon as Daud opened his mouth.

Faced with this logic, Daud gave up. "Alright," he sighed and busied himself by putting on his jacket.

"It's a date?" Rulfio tried to joke once more, but stopped when his 'innocent', wide-eyed look was met with raised eyebrows.

Outside, Rulfio put a hand on Daud's arm, warm even through the layers of fabric. "Want me to give you a ride home?" He gestured towards his motorcycle. "There's room for two."

Daud shrugged it off. "Thanks, but I'll walk."

Rulfio’s shoulders slumped. "Alright then." A sigh. "Stay safe, see you on Monday."

"Until then."

Rulfio swung himself onto the motorcycle, but didn't leave immediately. For a moment Daud thought he was going to say something more. After a few moments, though, Rulfio shook his head, started the motor and drove off, one hand lifted as a farewell.

Sparing a moment to look after him, Daud still couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important, something everyone around him had already understood. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. 

Shaking his head, he reminded himself that whatever it was, it wasn't important right now. What the old man, Samuel, had said - he couldn't get it off his mind. Was it really his Billie? It wasn't impossible, he had to admit. She was sneaky enough for both of them (and considering his honed skills in that regard, that was an impressive feat) and definitely didn't have any qualms about being out and about by herself. But why hadn't she told him?

A soft laugh escaped him as the answer to that question stood out clearly in his memories. She still didn't trust him. He knew that. And him being aware of how she was sneaking out wouldn't make it better.

But he had to know if she was safe. He couldn't lose her. It had only been two months, but... he couldn't. He’d rather die, or kill again.

Decision made, he looked around, searching for a comfortable hiding place - dark, inconspicuous, able to see the pub's door. The roof would have been an option, but jumping down from there, while being an excellent way to ambush someone and end their life, tended to be a bad conversation starter. There was a bench nearby, but he would be seen...

Daud paused and wondered why that was a bad thing. He wasn't trying to kill Beechworth, was he? There was going to be no crime, just... conversation.

Though, just in case...

He sighed. The roof it was. He could always transverse down and act like he had been standing somewhere on the ground all along.

A small alley led to the back of the Hound Pits Pub. He followed it and clenched his fist, feeling the Void run through his veins. The Mark on the back of his hand, faded into nothingness during the day, appeared once more and lit up with blue fire, burning through his veins. The smell of salt and ozone filled his nose.

Hidden behind the building, he finally shaped the magic. Time around him slowed to a crawl. A release of stored power, a wave of energy through his body, the rush of displaced air, and time resumed its normal course. Daud looked down at where he had stood only moments before, then turned. Another transversal made his blood sing, the feeling eerily close to the sound of whales. It set his teeth on edge and made his temples throb, heralding a bad headache if he kept this up.

Right, he needed to take short breaks between transversals. He hadn't used these powers for so long, it had somehow slipped his mind.

Daud frowned. In fact, why had he used them in the first place? He could have scaled the building on his own, magic hadn't been necessary for that at all. Was it the dream he'd had of the Void, reminding him of the powers, forcing him to use them? Did the Outsider get some kind of kick out of this?

With a sigh he pushed the thoughts aside. The cryptic bastard wouldn't answer his questions, and it wasn't important either. He was on the roof, that was all that mattered.

Now all he had to do was to wait for Samuel Beechworth to exit the pub. He’d see if he was alone, question him, and then he’d decide what to do.

It was almost like the bad old days, only with less bloodshed involved. The thought, wrong as it was (he wouldn't go back to that, he didn't miss it, his life was so much better now), managed to draw a smile onto his face.

Daud settled in, thankful it wasn’t raining, and waited.

 

The sweet fragrance was the most wonderful thing she had smelled for a long, long time. Raising her cup of tea, she took a sip, frowning at the taste. “How rude,” she mused, “for you to not even make proper tea for your Granny. Is that how you treat your most beloved, my little birdies?”

The rats chittered around her, agitated by the smell in the air. They delighted in it as well, didn’t they? In the wonderful perfume of devotion.

“Oh, my black-eyed husband!” Granny smiled. “Take this as a sign of my never-ending love. And as a promise… we will hold each other again soon.”

As if a spell was broken, her dearies shot forwards, towards her table and her incredibly rude guest. While the sounds of teeth tearing into flesh began, she sipped at her tea, mourning how far too soon the delicious smell of decay would be lost.

At least there would still be tea.


	4. Kill Them With Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daud tries this new activity called talking to people. Granny does the same thing. The results vary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is a bit shorter because like a smart person I didn't manage to seperate them evenly. In exchange for that, the next one is going to be a bit longer, and today you get some more Granny, the one I know you're looking forward to the most ;P  
> Have fun!

Daud had been waiting for approximately an hour for Beechworth to leave the pub - not the longest time he had ever spent waiting for a target by far, but long enough to make him grow restless. This was too close to what his life had been, too close and too soon. The lack of his familiar coat and weapons was disconcerting, which by itself made Daud feel rather uncomfortable. 

He had stopped killing people, hadn't he? So why did this situation feel like coming home?

A harsh burn rose up in his chest. With some difficulty he managed to swallow his sudden queasiness once more, but still felt oddly lightheaded.

The sound of the pub's door opening was a welcome distraction. Two men left, joking voices drifting through the air, and it took Daud a moment to recognise the light coat one of them was wearing.

This was him, this was Beechworth. Now all Daud had to do was follow them until the other man left, then  _ crush his throat, drown him in the river, drop him from the rooftops _ \- Daud shuddered, shaking his head as if that could dislodge the thoughts. Talk to him, he wanted to talk to Beechworth. That was all.

He almost missed which way the men went, barely catching a glimpse of a coat vanishing behind a corner. Suppressing a groan, he pushed himself up, limbs stiff already from the wait, and shook his head. He'd never catch them like this.

Reaching out into the Void, he transversed onto the next roof. His landing was sloppy, more of a stumble than anything, but he was already moving again, climbing to the other side and scanning the street below for the men he was following.

They had reached the end of the street already and were turning right this time. Daud sighed.

He pursued the men in this manner for a few more minutes until they finally split up, the one whose name he hadn't bothered to learn waving back at Beechworth before taking a turn, continuing by himself.

Beechworth looked after him for a heartbeat, then turned and continued onwards. Thinking quickly, Daud hurried ahead, transversing down at the next intersection and stepping out just as Beechworth passed by, barely avoiding a collision.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he managed to get out, acting surprised while resisting the urge to reach for a knife he didn't carry.

Beechworth, actually taken by surprise, stumbled back and shook his head. "Oh no, I’m sorry - didn't see you there." He looked around, wariness in his eyes, then frowned at Daud.

Those words seemed familiar, as if Daud had already heard them today. Ignoring the feeling, he asked instead, before the other man could get over his confusion: "You're Samuel Beechworth, aren't you? I've heard of you."

Now it seemed to click inside of Beechworth's head, and he gave Daud a small smile. "You were in the Hound Pits today, weren't you? That friend of Rulfio's?"

Something about the way the sailor emphasized the word 'friend' bothered Daud, though he couldn't put a finger on what it was. But that wasn't important. What - or rather who -  _ was  _ important was Billie.

"Actually-"

It seemed, though, that Beechworth wasn't done yet. "Funny we'd run into each other again so soon."

"...yes, funny. I have to admit, I got a bit lost. Not used to the city yet." It was, to Daud's shame, the truth. He had been so focused on following Beechworth that he had completely lost track of any kind of landmark to tell him where he was. If he wanted to find his way home again, he'd have to take to the rooftops once more and look for familiar sights.

Possible, of course, but inconvenient.

Beechworth nodded, his furrowed brow almost invisible in the darkness. "I'd have thought Rulfio would've brought you home, like a good date. Not like him, that..."

This time it was Daud's turn to frown. Rulfio joking had been understandable, but this stranger? Did the word have a different meaning in the local dialect? Or... maybe Beechworth was in on the joke somehow. Everyone in that pub had seemed to know each other, so it wasn't impossible. He shrugged, deflected. "Apparently I overestimated my knowledge of this place."

"Dangerous, that." Beechworth turned a bit further, his face now hidden by the shadows thrown by the street lamp behind him, and pointed at the street Daud had come from. "If you go that way and turn left at the end of the street, the Chamber of Commerce is straight ahead. Do you know your way from there?"

They were that close to the Financial District? Daud's surprise must have shown on his face, because Beechworth chuckled. "Easy to get turned around in Dunwall," the sailor remarked, then yawned. "I'd better get home... what was your name again?"

"Daud. Daud Foster."

He hadn't expected this - hadn't expected someone who, when stopped by a stranger in the middle of the night, all by himself, would talk to him, help him out. He’d just… never experienced anything like that.

Maybe it would be alright if he just let the situation develop for a while and simply kept an eye on it. Nothing bad had happened so far - he hoped, at least - and there was no need to threaten him into submission immediately...

"Mr. Foster. Send Rulfio my regards. And if you'd like, I can take you out on the Wrenhaven sometime - there's room for three on the  _ Amaranth _ ."

The  _ Amaranth _ , was that his ship? And room for three - did Beechworth know he was Billie's...

"You seem like a good man," he continued - Daud barely managed to suppress his wince - "and I still owe the boy a favor."

The boy... oh, right, Rulfio. A boat ride for just the two of them though, as if they were a couple...? Then Daud remembered the joke that was slowly being taken too far.

If it continued like that, someone was going to take it seriously at some point.

He did his best to smile despite that thought. "Thank you for the offer, but I think it's best if both of us go home now."

"Right you are. If you make up your mind, the  _ Amaranth _ \- that's my ship - is at the northern harbour. Just ask around, someone'll point you there."

Still keeping the smile on his face, Daud nodded. "I will. Thank you, and goodbye."

Quickly he turned, before there could be another comment about him and Rulfio, and began to follow the path Beechworth had pointed out. Armed with the information about his ship and where to find it, a plan began to form in his mind.

He'd have to see if Billie was up for that shopping trip tomorrow.

  
  
  


"Gifts for your old Granny? Oh, you shouldn't have!" Delighted, she let her hands wander over the tribute the children had brought to her. It sang in her hands, whispered of power and screamed in pain. Wonderful, these two dears. They always brought her the nicest things.

Curiously, she noticed they weren't gone yet. Why didn't they scatter like her birdies, like their ashes would when they’d be thrown into the wind? "Darlings, do you have more for me? Speak up, my dears, I can't hear you when you think. Is there something you want your dear old Granny to know?"

They shuffled around – had they been bad children? Would they need to be punished? - until one of them, the beautiful one, the stubborn one, let her sweet, sweet voice be heard. "Granny, can we please stop making... these?"

Well, well. Her two darlings with their magical, wonderful hands were traitors?

"My dearest child, what did you say? Did Granny misunderstand? You have to forgive me, your dear old Granny’s ears aren’t what they used to be..." She smiled broadly. If they had misspoken, if there had been a misunderstanding, she’d be a terrible Granny if someone got hurt because of that.

"Galia, stop," the sweet boy – smart, she remembered, as were most of her children, though not this particular sister – whispered, like a scared mouse that had encountered her birdies. "It's fine, I'm fine!"

"I said," said her stubborn, foolish dear, "Granny, can we please stop carving the bones? It hurts. We can do other things instead. Anything."

Anything? There was only one thing Granny wanted from them, and only one thing a traitor could do for her. "Is that so? My little birdies!", she called out. "Say hello to our nice visitors!"

Their tiny claws clicked on the ground as they ran out of their hiding spots. They were happy to see her other dears, it seemed. Granny was happy as well. She liked it when her family was pleased. And family reunions, rare as they were, were the most wonderful occurrences she’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

Strangely, her two darling visitors didn't move. Weren't they cheery to see her little dearies?

"Dear birdies, greet them properly. Especially our favourite, the sweet boy! Look at him, so young, so soft, so wonderful!"

And how they screamed! A truly delightful sound, almost as pleasing to her ears as the sweet humming of the bone she was still holding. Maybe she’d bathe it in their blood, see if it’d change? All those experiments she could try...

"Rin!" the foolish girl shouted. Her name for the sweet boy? How strange. Didn't she know what Granny called him?

The wild squeaking of her little birdies agreed with her. Sweet boy was such a fitting name. Sweet as sugar and everything nice...

"I'm sorry! Granny, I'm sorry, I’m sorry! We'll make your bones! We'll make them! We... we'll make more than before! Please… please stop!"

What an intriguing thought, Granny found.

"Birdies! Come to me, my dearies!"

The happy squeaking ended - a shame, really, but maybe there’d be another opportunity for them to enjoy themselves - and they ran back to their Granny, their tiny bodies warming her feet even as the blood on them tickled her.

"My birdies, aren't my darlings lovely? As lovely as the charms they'll make for us."

The two dears were sobbing. Weren't they happy they could still make things for their Granny? Was today's youth losing their way? No matter, Granny would help them find it again. That was what a caring Granny was for, wasn’t it?

"Until next time then, darlings! Don't forget about your poor old Granny!"

Quiet filled the room, and her birdies shifted around her feet, hoping they could go back to the sweet ones and play some more. But then the foolish girl spoke, and they settled down again.

"Goodbye, Granny. I... I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too, my sweet child."

There they were, the manners. Her birdies truly were the best teachers.


	5. Stumbling Through Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie - good at talking, getting better at thinking before that. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close enough to Saturday to post this ;)

Billie woke up early, a damn shame considering she had stayed up until Daud had returned, hiding underneath her blanket as if it would protect her as soon as she had heard him open the door. But nothing had happened - there had been no shouting, no angry knocking on her closed door, no barging into her room. Only a softly murmured "good night, Billie" as he had passed by her room, so quiet she had barely heard it.

Maybe... maybe this was going to work out after all.

Practically jumping out of her bed, she let hope fuel her, wondering what this day would bring. The rush carried her into her clothes and halfway out of the room before her right arm caught on the doorframe, sending tiny sparks of pain through her body and stopping her in her tracks.

What was that - it couldn’t be. Had she imagined it? Once more she knocked the metallic fingers against the wood, lightly this time. Nothing. But maybe if she...

Just as she drew her arm back to punch the door frame with all of her strength, the sound of a door opening made her freeze.

"Good morning," Daud's rough voice greeted her, still carrying hints of a yawn. "What did the wall do to you?"

Desperately trying to force the guilty expression on her face away before he could see it, Billie lowered her arm and turned, smiling as innocently as she could. "Nothing, I was just... I just wanted to try something."

He didn't  _ look _ hungover, she noticed. There was no squinting into the light, no new shadows underneath his eyes. If anything, he looked healthier than he had before, more aware, more relaxed. That was not the kind of effect she had expected of alcohol.

"How was your evening?" she asked carefully, trying to distract him from what she had been doing - but also to keep the conversation alive. It felt like something had changed between them, shifted, and she had to know what it was.

Maybe it was just her imagination.

"It was nice." A small smile slipped onto his face - something that had happened more and more often lately. An honest smile, not as forced as the bigger ones he sometimes gave her. That was a good thing, probably. "The pub had really good apple soda. I think you'd like it too."

Billie's brain stuttered and came to a stop. Apple soda?

"They make it themselves, I've heard. We can go there together sometime, if you want."

Somehow Billie had never considered that 'meeting up with a colleague in the evening' could be done without alcohol, or in establishments where she would be allowed. It seemed inconceivable. Suddenly feeling dizzy, she looked away. "Maybe."

"Good. Let’s… let’s do that." The by now familiar hesitation when speaking to her had found its way back into Daud's voice. Billie didn’t welcome it. "Do you want breakfast?"

A shared breakfast - it was almost embarrassing how quickly Billie had gotten used to it. She opened her mouth to answer, but was beaten to it by her growling stomach. Heat rushed into her cheeks. Daud's soft chuckling didn't help at all.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He made his way to the kitchen and Billie followed, eyes firmly turned downward. She was hungry - so what? He could have at least tried to hide his amusement!

But the feeling didn't last for long, and instead a strange giddiness took over. This… this was nice. She would have to wait and see, maybe push him a bit to see how far she could go, but... If things stayed like this forever, she wouldn't mind.

Breakfast was a short and silent affair as usual. Billie, despite knowing that she had a steady source of food now, that there was going to be more, couldn't stop herself from gulping down everything that found its way onto her plate as quickly as possible. After a few attempts at conversation at the beginning Daud seemed to have realized he couldn't slow her down any more than she could, and the only thing filling the silence between them during meals were the sounds of eating.

(Maybe today would be the day he snapped, or the day he decided she was a waste of food, or the day he kicked her out, the day she had to run...)

As soon as she was done, though, he spoke. "I was thinking we could get you those new clothes we talked about today, if that's alright with you?"

Billie looked up, eyes wide, and swallowed the last bite of her bread. "I..." She broke off, coughing up a few stray crumbs she had barely avoided choking on, then tried to answer once more. "Sure, if we have to..."

It still seemed like such a luxury. Getting new, unused clothes, more than she could wear at any given moment - it was strange... strange, but nice. But was it really necessary?

Daud shook his head. "I'm not going to let you be cold." There was no disapproval in his voice, just humor and something soft, something she couldn't identify. She heard that tone from him often, this wasn't the first time by far, but she still hadn't found out what it meant. Something else that kept bothering her.

At least now she knew what they'd be doing all day. "Alright, Dad."

There it was again - the almost invisible flinching she had noticed last time, the unsure expression on his face. But what did it  _ mean _ ? Once more backpedalling before he could react further, Billie corrected herself: "I mean... Dad."

When she noticed the way her tongue had betrayed her, it was too late. Daud's lips had pulled up into a broad smile, and with a far lighter voice than before he asked: "Do you want to go right away, Billie?"

Billie looked away and shrugged, wishing she could simply sink into the ground. She hadn't meant to... alright, she  _ had _ meant to call him Dad, but she hadn't meant for him to  _ know _ .

Daud inhaled as if he wanted to say more, but then stayed silent, presumably still grinning. It seemed like he was giving her time to calm down, to think, and Billie appreciated it. He always did things like this, she realized - giving her time, space, letting her come to her own conclusions in her own time. In addition, he almost seemed scared of her sometimes, whenever she reacted badly to something he had done, or could do - like yesterday, when he had asked her for her opinion about him going out with his colleague. It was the hesitation in his voice when he spoke to her, and the way he asked her how she felt about the simplest things.

She had seen but not registered it, not understood. She still didn't, but some things were starting to become clearer to her. It seemed like she could trust him... at least a bit. For now.

Smiling, with the surprising freedom found in her decision lighting her up from the inside, she turned back. "When are we leaving, Dad?"

And if the smile that answered her warmed her insides and finally made her feel like she belonged here… well, no one but her ever had to know.

  
  


It turned out to be another sunny day, though not as warm as it would have been in Serkonos this time of the year. Maybe Daud had a point about those warmer clothes - though Billie really thought the amount he had insisted on was ridiculous. What did she need three sweaters for? Was she supposed to wear all of them on top of each other? Ridiculous. 

But it had been his decision to do this, so he couldn't (and hopefully wouldn't) complain.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Daud stopped, looking down at the bags in his hands. "That's probably enough," he mused before frowning. "Maybe we should get warmer shoes too."

New shoes? Billie didn't like the thought of that. The ones she was wearing right now were fine, weren't they? It had felt like hours until they’d found them, and it had been one of the most boring experiences of Billie’s life. How much of a difference could others make? (She wouldn’t be able to carry all of this if she had to leave.) But before she could express her thoughts, they were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"Daud? What a surprise to see you here!"

The speaker was a tall man, disheveled hair falling into his eyes in a way that made Billie wonder how he could see at all. He was accompanied by two women who looked incredibly similar to each other - sisters, maybe, or even twins. They were pretty, their features finely chiseled, their warm brown skin, darker than Daud's but lighter than Billie’s own, seemingly glowing in the sun. 

The man just had a big nose.

"Rulfio?" Daud seemed equally surprised to see that man. The name seemed familiar - was that the coworker he had mentioned a few times, the one he’d gone out for drinks with? Why was he here, interrupting her time with Daud?

Not that she was enjoying herself or anything.

"You're out shopping too?" The man - Rulfio - turned to Billie. "You must be Billie, right? I'm Rulfio. These are my sisters, Gemma and Belinha - but we mostly call her Smiley. Sisters, that's Daud and Billie Foster."

All of this was said in one breath, and Billie didn't know if she should be impressed or horrified.

"Daud Foster?" one of the sisters said - Smiley, Billie thought, but wasn't sure, though her smile was impressive enough. It reminded her of a cat she had seen stalking a rat once. "I've heard a lot about you. You know, Rulf here has this huge-"

Failing to see the elbow jab Rulfio silenced her with was impossible. Billie couldn't help but giggle. She wondered what the woman had been about to say...

"What my sister  _ means _ to say is that I'm very hungry," Rulfio rushed to explain.

The other woman - Gemma? - nodded, smiling with feigned innocence. "Starving, really. Huge appetite, that man."

"Thirsty too," her sister agreed.

Billie had the feeling that there was a second conversation layered onto the obvious one they were having, something related to what Rulfio had prevented them from saying. She just couldn't understand what it was about, if not food.

"Thank you." Rulfio sighed. "What I wanted to ask was: Would you like to join us for lunch?"

Lunch with them? On one hand, that might be the opportunity Billie needed to satisfy her curiosity. Also, food - always a good argument. But then again... they’d interrupted them, or at least this Rulfio had. Besides, what if they didn't like her, said something about her that would convince Daud to send her away again? What if they minded her eating habits or looks or arm or eye or...

"Actually we wanted to go looking for..."

"Dad!" Billie quickly interrupted when she remembered why they had stopped in the first place. Her decision was made - no new shoes would be bought. At least not right now. "Dad, I'm hungry!"

Now that she was looking for it, she could see the exact second he caved, only moments after the words had left her lips. His shoulders slumped slightly, then were raised back up in a sigh. "Lunch sounds good."

Ignoring the women' giggling, Billie turned to Rulfio who was staring at Daud with a strange expression on his face. "So," she asked, "where are we going?"

Rulfio blinked several times before tearing his eyes away from Daud, who - in Billie's opinion - really wasn't interesting enough to justify that. Or pretty enough.

"There's this bistro nearby," he finally said, looking stunned, as if someone had hit him over the head with a wooden board. "They have really good grilled cheese sandwiches."

Silence enveloped them as the sisters turned away, one of them attempting to hide her grin with her hand but failing. Billie looked at Rulfio, who looked at Daud, who...

She frowned. He was looking at her. Hadn't she already said she wanted food?

After a few more seconds in which no one had managed to say anything, she sighed. "Sounds good. Where is it?"

Adults - really.

  
  


The bistro had incredibly comfortable chairs, and as she listened to the conversation flowing around her, Billie wondered if she could get Daud to bring her here more often. Remembering how quickly she had made him forget about the shoes earlier, she grinned. Maybe it would be easier than expected.

She only hoped it would be without company. Rulfio's sisters seemed nice sometimes, especially when they teased him - though what it was about, Billie still couldn't tell. However, the man himself took up far too much of Daud's attention. Who did he think he was? Did he really believe he could just ambush them and bribe his way into their good graces using food...

A heavenly smell suddenly reached her nose, and she looked up. Food! The most beautiful grilled cheese sandwich she had ever seen! And it was for her and her alone! 

The first bite she took was the best one she'd ever had, and in five more the sandwich was gone. Rulfio could stay, her traitorous mind thought, if his presence always came with food like this.

Only then did she realize that the voices around her had fallen silent.

Looking up, she found that almost everyone at the table was staring at her - Gemma with disbelief, Smiley once more smiling, though this time it looked forced, and Rulfio simply shocked - and felt blood rush into her cheeks. 

What were they thinking, what was Daud thinking? Had she embarrassed him in front of his friend? Was he angry now?

She glanced to the side and saw that he was looking back at her, a slight frown on his face. "Are you alright?"

Quickly staring back down at her empty plate, she nodded, feeling heat once again burn in her cheeks. "I'm fine... just hungry." She had embarrassed him in front of his friend and his sisters - surely he had to be mad now, surely he'd have to get rid of her, or at last punish her.

It almost sounded like he was trying to say something, but then was interrupted by Rulfio's voice.

"Excuse me!"

From the corner of her left eye Billie, still focusing on her plate to the exclusion of almost everything else, spotted another person entering her field of vision and stopping next to the table.

"What can I do for you?" a friendly voice asked, and Billie recognized it as belonging to the waitress.

"We need another sandwich... or make that two, please."

"Of course - right away!"

Billie blinked, confusion replacing the embarrassment, and looked up. Rulfio was still looking at her, as was Daud, but now there was a clearly amused curl to his lips. "You weren't exaggerating when you said you were hungry, were you?"

In the background his sisters exchanged money.

She scowled, unhappy with what he had said but not sure how to respond, and in the end decided to simply glare at him. He had done it, he had somehow managed to ruin the goodwill he had bought with the food, and if he thought she was going to be nice now...

At this he drew back, holding up his hands as if they could protect him from her ire, and forced a grin. "Calm down, kid. No judgement here."

Billie saw his eyes twitch towards Daud, as if he was looking for approval, and immediately deepened her scowl. That man had no right to look at Daud like that - her new Dad was hers, he didn’t belong to this newcomer! Not even Daud's sigh could stop her, or Rulfio's various attempts to talk himself back onto her good side, which she blocked out after the first three words ("Hey, Billie, I," to be exact), or the conversation Smiley dragged Daud into, or the...

Food?

Two more plates with grilled cheese sandwiches appeared before he. For a moment she forgot about everything else, simply intent on devouring them as quickly as possible while also savoring the taste. 

Speed won out, and the two sandwiches were gone almost as quickly as the first one. This had to be heaven, or at least close.

Feeling pleasantly full and ready to forgive Rulfio if he didn't do anything stupid again, Billie leaned back with a smile, happily feeling the fullness of her stomach, and watched Daud interact with the others - polite, but reserved with the twins, far more open and actually smiling when talking to Rulfio. It almost seemed like he didn’t actually mind him, maybe even  _ liked _ him..

Billie didn’t approve, but she would tolerate it - for now. For food. And as soon as she got the chance, she’d drag out whatever his sisters were teasing him with and use it against him until he backed off.

The opportunity arose earlier than she'd expected: Daud excused himself for a moment and got up, leaving her alone with who she now saw as her targets. Rulfio's eyes, she noticed, followed him until he was out of view, and it almost looked like he was looking at Daud's ass...

Oh. Oh! So that was what was going on. She could use that, easily. 

When he turned back towards her with the words "so how's school, kid?", she was ready.

"Do you want to fuck my dad?"

Watching Rulfio choke on air was the funniest thing she had seen all day. Judging by Smiley's wheezing laughter and her sister's low chuckling, they agreed with her.

"I... what... no, I..."

But Gemma didn't even let him finish his poor attempt at denial. "Oh, he does! He's so desperate it’s sad - only it’s too funny! Ow!”

She bent down and rubbed her leg, glaring up at Rulfio. Billie had the feeling he had kicked his sister underneath the table.

“You can’t… you can’t just tell her!”, he protested. 

Smiley took over, not showing any mercy. “Admit it, Rulf,” she grinned, “you’re thirsting after him so badly that even his tiny daughter noticed.”

Billie frowned, confronted with that word again, then realized something. “So that’s what you meant before, when you said he was thirsty!”

“...oh.” Smiley stopped smiling and flushed instead, now looking directly at Billie. “I, erm… yes, that’s what it means.” Then, unexpectedly, her smile returned. “If anyone asks, Rulf here told you what it means. Definitely not me.”

For a moment Billie hesitated, but Rulfio’s pained groan managed to win her over in an instant and she grinned. “Sure!” Anything that annoyed him the way he annoyed her had to be a good thing.

When Daud returned, it was to the two women animatedly chatting with Billie and Rulfio sulking. He didn’t ask, and no one mentioned what had happened in his absence.

  
  


At the end of their shopping trip, Billie hadn't been able to avoid getting new shoes – though at least it hadn’t taken too long. They were red, too, her favourite color. 

Still, Daud's insistence seemed strange. Was it really going to be that cold? She had been just fine during winters in Cullero.

It was early in the afternoon, and through Billie was already thinking of what she'd eat for dinner, her stomach was still pleasantly full from the divine grilled cheese sandwiches. Through the food-induced haze of bliss it took her two wrong turns to notice something was wrong.

"Where are we going?", she asked, slowing down. "That's not the way home."

"I thought we could explore the city a bit." Daud shrugged, none of his usual hesitation in his voice. Suspicious. "Or did you have enough for today?"

Billie frowned, not sure what to say. "I... maybe? Where did you want to go?"

"The port, maybe. See some ships. What do you think?"

_ He knows, _ she thought before shoving that thought aside. He didn't know, he couldn't. She'd been careful, always home when he arrived. All he knew was that she liked ships, not that she'd gone to see them every day after school for two weeks already. And if she kept him away from the  _ Amaranth _ , he wouldn't find out either.

This was fine.

_ He knows. _

Taking a deep breath, Billie smiled. "Sure, ships are always great!" The port was big enough for them to stay busy elsewhere, no need for them to visit her pirate vessel.

Daud returned the smile. "Good, then let's go!"

For a minute Billie's steps slowed down, but she couldn't stay worried for long – ships would always manage to cheer her up. "Do you think we'll see a huge sailing ship?" she asked, almost bouncing next to Daud. "Like a pirate ship! One day I want to be one!"

Daud's chuckle caught her by surprise, and she replayed her last few words in her head. "Damn," she whispered. Once more her mouth had worked on autopilot, saying things she wasn't ready for others to know yet. "I mean... I don't..."

"Is that why you like wearing that eye patch so much?" He sounded openly curious, but that didn't have to say much. The great shutdown could still follow.

"...maybe?" Billie reached up to touch it with her left hand, starting at her covered eye and then following the string that held it in place. It was cool, that was all. Cool and a bit pirate-y. A lot. Her arm was like a peg leg, only better, so all she needed was a parrot and a ship. A Morleyan battle ship, she thought, remembering the one Daud had drawn for her – that would be perfect. She would be infamous, her name on every captain's lips, a whisper in the dark...

"Careful, Billie!"

Strong hands gripped her arm, gently pulling her to the side and out of her daydream. A potential danger.

"Hey!" She lashed out, her right fist hitting something soft. Someone groaned – a familiar voice. Daud? Oh. Oh no.

"Sorry, kid," he wheezed, rubbing his stomach, and Billie froze.

Had she... had she punched Daud? She had punched Daud. He was hurt because of her. This was... this was bad. She couldn't have punched Daud, she couldn't have. He was going to hate her, he was going to...

"Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you." He spoke again, but her mind had difficulties figuring out what he was saying. Was he really apologizing? No, it was her who had to do that, right now, as soon as she could get her lips to move. Why didn't they move? Why couldn’t she speak, why couldn’t she run?

Daud lifted a hand, and Billie still couldn't get out of the way, couldn’t avoid the strike. All she could do was brace herself...

The hand softly landed on her head and ruffled her hair. It wasn't painful, didn't particularly feel like a punishment. In fact, it was oddly pleasant. Billie frowned, trying to place the feeling, and Daud immediately withdrew his hand.

"Sorry again." He sighed. "Just... try not to walk into a street sign next time, okay?"

Billie blinked. A what? Looking up, she realized he was right – they were standing next to a signpost that would have been directly in her path, had Daud not pulled her to the side. "Oh. I- I didn't see that."

"Daydreaming about pirates?"

She stared up at him, eyes wide and blush creeping up her cheeks. How did he know? 

Nodding slowly, she let her gaze fall to the ground. She’d never live that down.

"You'd be a good one." He chuckled, then turned serious again. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Billie took another deep breath, then looked back up. "What about the port?"

"Well, if you insist..."

But the smile on his face spoke different words – of amusement, of acceptance, of belonging. Billie saw him turn away, towards their destination, and... she just wanted it to last a bit longer.

"Wait!"

Daud stopped and turned back. "Is something wrong?"

It was now or never. "That thing you did with my hair," she started, unsure how to describe it. "Do it again?"

As soon as she had said this, she wanted to sink into the ground and vanish. At least they had gotten away from the city's center and there were almost no passersby, no one who could see how weird she was... no one except Daud. The only one who mattered.

Billie closed her eyes, wishing the world around her would vanish from existence as effectively as easily. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling foolish.

The next moment, a newly familiar weight settled down on her head and messed her hair up some more. "No need to apologize," Daud's voice rumbled next to her. "This is… good."

This had to be what cats felt like, Billie thought, when they purred. This exact feeling of simply... being. No fears, no worries, just warmth and... affection? Love? Was that what she felt? 

She liked it.

A smile had found its way to her face. Billie couldn't tell when it had happened, though it felt appropriate. "Thanks," she muttered, unused to meaning the word.

Daud withdrew once more, but stayed close. "Anytime, Kid." The familiar hesitation was back, Billie noticed, and he seemed to think something over before he spoke further. "Let’s get back on our way?"

Grinning, Billie nodded. "Let’s."

And so they went, peaceful silence enveloping them. For a while, at least.

Eventually, Daud spoke again. "What do you think of Rulfio, and of his sisters? You seemed to get along."

Billie shrugged. What was she supposed to say about that? 'I enjoyed annoying him?' Finally she settled on a neutral response. "Gemma and Smiley were nice and funny. Rulfio paid for the sandwiches."

Smiling slightly, Daud looked down at her. "He's nice like that. Actually, he's the one I met up with yesterday. Did I mention that?"

He hadn’t - but it wasn’t like he knew a lot of people. It was simple to put it together. 

"Like a date?" she asked, earning a chuckle in response.

"No, kid, not like a date. Just... normal."

Normal. Did Rulfio know about that? Judging by how... desperately thirsty he looked, Billie thought, trying out the new word, yes. Yet he still hadn't told Daud that he liked him... 

Maybe she should do it for him. If Daud reacted badly, he wouldn’t be there to fix it, right?

"I think he likes you."

Daud paused for a moment. "Of course he likes me – we're… friends," he then said, confusion clear in his voice, utterly destroying any kind of respect Billie had developed concerning his intelligence and observation skills.

"No, I mean..." How was she going to say this without using the icky L-word? "He  _ like _ -likes you."

Daud had the nerve to laugh like the idiot she had thought he wasn’t. "No, he doesn't. He's just nice, that's all."

How was Billie going to explain to her Dad that Rulfio  _ did _ 'like-like' him very much? That he seemed to value his attention more than anyone else's? That he stared at Daud's ass whenever he could?

Not at all, that was how. The lazy bastard could do it himself. She had tried her best.

That decided, she sighed. "Sure, sure... if you say so."

He reached out slowly, carefully, giving her ample time to dodge if she wanted to. But Billie stayed where she was until she felt his hand on top of her head again, tousling her hair. She liked this a lot, she decided.

Finally Daud withdrew his hand once more. Unconsciously following it with her head, Billie stumbled half a step in his direction before catching herself and blushing, then hurrying after him when she realized he was already a few steps ahead of her. 

Back in her position next to him, she eyed his hand for a moment, considering. Should she...?

She should, she decided, and pushed her fingers between his. Staring straight ahead, as if this was a perfectly normal occurrence, she grinned, showing her teeth to everyone who bothered to look. This was her Dad,  _ hers _ , and the entire world would see it. See it and  _ stay away _ .

Starting with Rulfio. Unless he brought cheese sandwiches… maybe.

  
  


 

 

“My birdies, what is it? What did you find?”

The dearies were excited. There was an intruder, they chittered, that smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and all kinds of bad things. A bad, bad man.

Granny smiled and called her entire family. Their tiny feet skittered over the floor.

They’d give him a proper greeting, their new guest. After all… he’d stay for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter from the pov of our favourite (currently present) Whaler! Who absolutely meant for all of this to happen. Definitely.


	6. What Are Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Daud and our regularly scheduled communication failures.

The smell of salt and algae grew stronger the closer they got to the port, and Daud wrinkled his nose. It reminded him far too much of their journey to Dunwall, of the constant fear that he would somehow be recognised despite the part of his deal with the Outsider that was supposed to prevent just that, of the Void-damned seasickness. Daud, the Reaper, scourge of Serkonos, brought low by the sea. Truly disgraceful.

But here he was, with what could pass as a plan and a purpose, and half-suppressed (month-)old memories couldn't hurt him. It was time to find Samuel Beechworth. Which led to the first and hopefully only problem in this endeavour - how was he supposed to find him? He should ask someone, Beechworth had said, but how could he do that without Billie noticing?

Apparently now was the time to dust off more of his old skills and investigate stealthily.

While Billie looked around, the only thing keeping her from bouncing into the stratosphere being physics, Daud searched for a distraction. A big, impressive ship, something he could point her at to keep her busy for a minute while he hopefully got the information he needed. He didn't technically _need_ to surprise her with his knowledge of her secret activities, but it seemed far easier than talking about it.

"Dad, Dad, look!"

Billie's excited voice interrupted his thoughts, and his gaze followed her trembling finger until it landed on a rather impressive sailing boat. Exactly what he had been looking for.

"It's a pirate ship! Loo- oh." Turning quickly, as if the Outsider had been waving at her, she suddenly pointed in exactly the other direction. "And that one is even bigger!"

It was, though Billie suddenly sounded far less enthusiastic. Daud couldn't hold it against her. The pirate ship was certainly more impressive.

The sudden change of direction was suspicious, and anyway – the 'pirate ship' looked far more impressive and distracting. Maybe it was time to go with his gut. He'd never liked talking to people anyway. 

"I don't know, I prefer the pirate ship. Let's take a closer look, alright, kid?"

"...alright!"

If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed the slight hesitation in Billie's otherwise cheerful answer. But he was, and it seemed that he had found the way to the  _ Amaranth _ . And not only that, there was also a pirate ship to make Billie happy – all in a day's work.

Small waves splashed against the pier while they walked, filling the silence between them. It was unusual for Billie to be this quiet, especially when she was this close to actual ships – then again, they were equally close to the little secret she was keeping from him. He could say something to break the silence, but what?

Finally Billie spoke. "Dad?"

Her tone was hesitant, almost scared, and Daud stopped. Was she going to tell him about Beechworth? Was there something else? Something wrong? Well... something _else_ that was wrong?

"What is it, Billie?" he asked, trying to make his question seem as harmless and unknowing as possible.

She frowned, not looking at him but at the ships, and shook her head. "It's nothing. Just... thanks for taking me here."

For someone who had grown up on Serkonos' streets, Daud reflected, she was a surprisingly bad liar. Or it was the fact that he was almost sure she was hiding something from him as well as knowledge of what it was that made it so easy to spot signs of it.

Another possibility he was trying to ignore was that said signs were simply born from his imagination and Samuel had been talking about another ship-obsessed girl called Billie. Maybe he... should have talked to her instead? 

No, talking had never worked out for him. He'd take Billie to the pirate ship, and then he'd think about what to do next.

He shrugged as a late response to her words. "It's fine. Actually, it's nice here – maybe we should do this more often." The place wasn't nice, but maybe it would be once the memories of his seasickness faded a bit and he didn't feel the urge to throw up every time he saw a ship.

"Sounds good!" Billie seemed to be taken with the idea for a long moment before she added: "Only if you want to, though."

"Sure, kid." He ruffled her hair, smiling, and she grinned back at him.

For her, he would do anything.

The silence between them had changed, from strained to companionable, and suddenly Daud enjoyed their walk far more. The sound and smell of the ocean seemed less nauseating, the sun shone brighter without blinding him, and Billie could hide safely behind his arm.

Wait, what?

"Mr. Foster – what a surprise!" a voice he thought he might know called out from a nearby boat. Billie squeaked and drew back further, pulling on his arm to hide her face.

It seemed they had found the _Amaranth_ and its – her? - waving owner. That... had been easier than expected.

One arm occupied by Billie and the other carrying their purchases, Daud nodded in greeting. "Mr. Beechworth – I didn't expect to see you again so soon either." He felt Billie's grip tighten. "It's more by chance that we found you."

"We?" The man raised his eyebrows, leaning to the side to spot who was hiding behind Daud.

Billie drew back further, but Daud knew no mercy. As he gently pulled her out of hiding, he felt her resist for a moment before sighing – barely more than a soft exhale – and finally stepping out from behind him. "My daughter Billie and I. You already know each other, I understand?"

He could feel Billie flinch before she released his arm and gave Beechworth a small wave. "Hi, Samuel."

Beechworth stared at them for a moment, visibly flabbergasted, before pulling himself back together. "Billie, girl, that you?" He turned back towards Daud. "You're Billie's father? Gotta say, didn't see that coming."

"Sadly there's not much of a family resemblance," Daud shrugged it off.

Next to him, Billie snorted. "We look exactly the same," she whispered, too quiet for Beechworth to hear, but loud enough for Daud. He raised his hand and ruffled her hair once more for that.

"I guess." Beechworth grinned broadly. "Well, I've heard a lot of good things about you from little Billie. Rulfio likes you too, so that makes you good people. Do you want to stay here for a bit? I could use the company."

Beechworth sounded like a good man as well, Daud thought. That realization solidified the decision he had made earlier.

"Say, Billie, do you want to spend the afternoon with Mr. Beechworth? I have to go and take care of something. If you don't mind, of course," he added a last sentence addressed to Beechworth.

"Of course not," the man hurried to assure him. "Oh, and call me Samuel. We're practically family, aren't we?"

That was a question Daud was not ready to answer, but he nodded. "Call me Daud, then. Billie?"

He turned back to his daughter, who was wearing a soft smile. That was an expression Daud wouldn't have minded seeing on her face more often. "Sure, Samuel is great!" She hesitated, then said more quietly: "Dad... am I... am I in trouble?"

His eyebrows raised as he put his hand on her shoulder, looking down at her. "Well, I _was_ a bit disappointed when I found out."

Billie's shoulders slumped.

"But you didn't mean any harm, you were safe – if you're ever uncomfortable with anything he does, just tell me and I'll take care of it – and to be honest, eventually we'd have ended up like this anyway, so you actually saved me the work of finding Beech- I mean Samuel," he continued quickly, her worry making his stomach churn worse than the sea.

It worked, she looked back up at him. "But you're leaving?"

Daud smiled at her, hoping it was reassuring instead of terrifying. "I just remembered I need to do something – I'll tell you about it later, when we're back home, alright? Now have some fun on that ship. I'll be back in an hour or two. That okay?"

After a moment of hesitation, Billie nodded. "Promise you'll be back?"

"I promise." After a last ruffling of her hair, Daud looked at Beechworth. "Please take good care of my daughter."

The man nodded. "I will. Good luck with what you're doing! Do you want to leave those bags here?"

Looking down at what he was still carrying, Daud hesitated. On one hand, it could help with the first phase of his plan... on the other, it might get in the way later.

Finally he nodded. "That'd be great, if you don't mind."

Samuel laughed. "The _Amaranth_ isn't so small that she couldn't carry a few extra bags, don't worry!"

Faced with that enthusiasm, Daud found the bags almost torn from his hands before he could set a single foot on the boat. Not that he minded. That death trap wouldn't see more of him any time soon.

It was time to catch himself a pickpocket.

  


  


The maze of small alleyways near the harbor was exactly what Daud had been hoping for. The streets were small, curved, with thousands of hiding places for anyone who didn't want to be seen. Daud didn't think a car could have fit between the walls surrounding him. Sometimes he wasn't even sure if Rulfio's motorcycle would have.

The perfect place to be ambushed, pickpocketed, or murdered, possibly all three at once.

Ignoring every single one of his instincts that screamed at him to watch his surroundings, Daud looked up, trying very hard to admire the buildings surrounding him. They weren't particularly pretty, but he was sure they had a certain something anyway. Woodworm, maybe, or bats that lived under the roof. Pigeon nests, broken windows, rats...

It felt like he was waiting for an eternity, though it probably didn't take more than a few minutes until he felt a gentle pull at his back pocket, where the wallet he had stuffed with toilet paper at lunch stuck out. Finally.

Daud whirled around and grabbed the hand that had been trying to steal from him, holding it in an iron grip to prevent escape, and paused. It was a child, a  _ tiny  _ child. Smaller than Billie, and probably even younger. Daud paused for the fraction of a second - he didn't particularly want to intimidate a defenseless child, even if he had almost been robbed of his empty wallet.

Then he pushed both hesitation and child back. There was a time for doubts, and this was not it. He had a task to fulfill.

Still holding on to the child's arm (far too thin), he glared. That, at least, was an expression he was good at. "Nice try," he growled, "but not good enough. What's your name?"

For a moment it seemed like he had terrified his victim into muteness, but then he got an answer. "Thomas," the boy whispered, eyes trying to hold Daud's gaze but slowly drifting towards the ground. He was afraid - that was to be expected. Daud wasn't exactly playing nice. At least the child wasn't fighting anymore.

He'd make it up to him somehow.

"You're a bit young to be a criminal, aren't you, Thomas?"

The boy flinched. Daud had to agree, it had been a dumb thing to say. The world didn't care how old you were when you were starving.

Suppressing a sigh, Daud softened his voice and tried again. "I'll let you go, no police, no consequences, if you help me with a little problem of mine."

The boy flinched again as if he had been struck and began to claw at Daud's arm again. "No... no, please..."

What was he... oh. That might not have been the best way to put it. Daud shuddered in revulsion at the thought. "Nothing like that, I promise. I just want to know something. Just... just one question and I'll let you go. Just talking. Nothing else."

Thomas' fighting, so far only successful when it came to putting several scratches on Daud's hand and arm, slowed down. Maybe he had managed to convince him - or the boy had figured out that he couldn't escape. The second option made Daud's stomach twist, but he comforted himself with the fact that he wasn't actually planning on doing anything more to Thomas than talking to him, no matter what the boy thought.

"Nothing will happen to you, I promise," he repeated, trying to put as much sincerity as possible into his voice.

This time, the boy seemed to listen. He looked up, suspicion still clear in his eyes. "What do you want to know?"

Finally they were getting somewhere. "Everything you know about Granny Rags."

Thomas' expression closed off almost before Daud was finished, and he quickly corrected his mistake. They were, in fact, getting nowhere.

"Nothing." Of course. 

"I find that hard to believe."

Thomas stayed silent.

"No one will have to know you told me."

Still nothing but a slight trembling under Daud's fingertips.

"I'll make sure she doesn't hurt you or anyone else."

"You can't."

A beginning. Not a promising one, but it was something.

"Why not?" Daud asked, remembering the stories Rulfio had mentioned. Rats and immortality, exactly the kind of thing he didn't like.

"No one can. She doesn't listen. And you can't hurt her. She just... doesn't die," Thomas confirmed what Rulfio had told Daud before. "She always comes back. And then she hurts people."

"And she doesn't hurt them now?"

The boy hesitated, looking down again. "It... it's different. It's worse. And she'll know. She knows everything."

That sounded unlikely, but if the Outsider was involved... who knew? Maybe she did. 

How could Daud solve this?

"I won't try to kill her. I'll just talk to her." He didn't plan to, exactly, but a white lie – or maybe a blood red one – would calm Thomas down.

It did seem to help. Thomas was watching Daud again, still suspicious. "Why?"

That was a good question, a great question. Daud would have loved to know the answer himself. "I heard she's in charge of all unlawful things, and I want to start a gang." He was pretty sure that was not how it worked, but he'd be damned if a tiny waif knew that for sure.

"Oh." And the boy was back to staring at the ground. "Bottle Street. That's where you have to look. Just ask around for her. Everyone there will be able to show you the way."

Daud wasn't sure, but it felt like Thomas' arm was trembling worse than before. The name 'Bottle Street' sounded familiar...

Still, he smiled at the boy. "Thanks for your help." He reached out and patted his shoulder while, with a remarkable feat of reverse-pickpocketing, putting some money into Thomas' thankfully open jacket pocket. His pickpocketing superiority proven, he let go of the boy's arm. "Better luck next time."

_Slackjaw_ , he remembered as soon as he saw the boy run and vanish behind a corner, _he's the leader of the Bottle Street Gang, Rulfio said._ And didn't they have some kind of war with that void-damned Granny Rags?

_Not too bad,_ _Thomas, not bad at all_ _,_ he thought, looked around and transversed onto the nearest rooftop.

Finding the boy from up there turned out to be easier than he had expected - it seemed he had only run for a few steps and around two corners before slowing down and letting the twisting paths do his work for him. Enough to shake off someone on foot after fooling them, but Daud was an assassin marked by the Outsider. The only chance the boy had was in his dreams.

Considering that the Void was where people went when they fell asleep, though... maybe not even there.

Daud followed the boy as he made his way through the alleys with a purpose he seemed to have lacked before. Maybe he was going to find a new ambush spot or something similar... or maybe he was going to lead Daud to Granny Rags.

There was only one way to find out.

 

 

 

There was an intruder in her home. Her dearies had smelled him, smelled the horrible, horrible whiskey on him, the smell of that rude neighbor. What was his name? Granny couldn't remember. Rude people didn't deserve a spot in her memory.

"Find our visitor," she whispered. "Give him a proper welcome."

It didn't take long for the screaming to start.


	7. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daud has several encounters he could have lived without.  
> At least one of them feels the same.

Stalking little children for any reason at all was something Daud was not particularly comfortable with. Excusing it with the thought that it would be far harder to track down Granny Rags in another way - excusing it with anything at all, really - didn’t improve the crawling feeling under his skin either, which was probably a good thing, morally speaking. Currently, though, it was just inconvenient.

Balancing on the rafters of what should have been an abandoned warehouse but actually seemed to be a cross between temporal homes and the local black market, Daud did his best to keep an eye on the little thief as he darted through the crowd, directly towards the back. The entire area was sectioned off using ratty-looking black cloth, patched together from a rather impressive amount of smaller pieces. As far as hideouts went, there were far less conspicuous ones, he judged, but the style was… something.

At least it definitely fit Granny Rags’ name.

The boy reached a small gap in the barrier and pushed through it. Daud hurried to follow before he could vanish - he had gotten this far, having to stop now would just be a disgrace. Luckily the… _unique_ curtain didn’t reach the ceiling, sparing him the question of how to get in undetected. Apparently most people didn't come in this way.

There were no visible guards on the other sideof the fabric, but no one who was as feared as Vera Moray seemed to be would foolishly let anyone simply walk into her lair, or even an outpost. There had to be _something_. Daud didn't particularly want to jump down and find out though, so it would have to stay a mystery.

The rafters were empty, which was something Daud appreciated after all the insanity he’d had to keep up with in his long career as assassin. Cameras had been the least of his worries. There had been laser grids that reached up to the ceiling due to constantly open windows (he was actually rather curious how often birds had gotten caught in those. There had been _flamethrowers._ Maybe the one who had set it up really liked the taste of scorched pigeon?), self-activated defense mechanisms that worked with a proximity sensor, shooting anyone who dared to come near them, trained killer ferrets…

Empty rafters were really nice. Daud wished there were more of those. Still, just in case, he had brought protection. It wasn't anything like his old mask, simply a thin, dark scarf he had bought earlier to hide his face with, but it was the easiest way to protect his identity at least a bit.

Besides, he wasn't planning on being seen today anyway. It was just in case he made a mistake, or if something unforeseen happened. Daud shouldn't actually need any kind of mask.

Which was, in his experience, the kind of situation that went sideways far too often.

With one last look across his route, checking for anything he might have missed, Daud let out a slow breath and transversed. The sudden chill of the Void, the burn in his hand, it all was something he was starting to get used to. He wasn't sure he liked it, but he could deal with it.

Taking a moment to recover, he looked down, tracing the boy's path on the ground. He was still visible, working his way through a rather long and convoluted path made of the same cloth as the entrance. Vera Moray really liked her aesthetics, didn't she?

A sudden rustling, almost too quiet to hear if it hadn't been far too close, drew his attention. Once more, he scanned his surroundings, looking for the source, until...

"Fuck," he breathed, staring into the tiny eyes of the rat not five feet from him. Usually not a danger at all, but... what was it Rulfio had mentioned about those? There had been a story of some kind of connection, if he remembered correctly. Was it seeing through their eyes? Some kind of Outsider annoyance. 

Though since there were no shouts of alarm, no orders of any kind given, perhaps it had been something else. Hopefully it had been something else.

Or maybe it was just a story. Maybe there was no magic involved, despite the Outsider's interest. Maybe this was simply a test, or some amusement for a capricious god. Who could tell? Daud certainly couldn't.

"Thomas, my dear," an old and gnarly voice drifted towards him, probably exactly as old and gnarly as the person it belonged to. "What brings you to me today?"

Her voice was accompanied by a soft groan, in a voice too deep to be hers or the boy's. Was there someone else? Daud looked down, away from the rat that might or might not have been a danger, and found three people. His would-be thief, Thomas, a woman, every inch as ancient and frail as she had sounded but with an aura that screamed _danger_ louder than even the Outsider's presence - Granny Rags, apparently \- and a bloodied man on a table, a respectable amount of dirt covering up any and all distinguishing features. Whatever Granny Rags had done to him, it didn't look particularly pleasant.

At the very least Daud was sure he didn't know him - he would have remembered someone as small as that man.

Probably.

Leaving him there was presumably not a particularly nice thing to do, but this was a reconnaissance mission, not a rescue. That man would survive.

Actually he probably wouldn't, judging by the bloody knife still clutched in Granny Rags' hand, but it was important to stay positive.

In his observations he had missed what exactly Thomas had said, but he did manage to catch Granny Rags' response.

"A stranger?" she asked, worry filling her voice with the cloying sweetness of decay. "I do hope he didn't follow you?"

Thomas shock his head, terror flashing in his face for a moment until it returned to the fake smile he had worn before. "Of course not, Granny! I just wanted to warn you. He's looking for you, and I... don't want anything to happen to you."

In other words, he was terrified Daud would attack her, she'd kill him and blame Thomas. Daud didn't hold it against him - he was hidden from her, not the focus of her attention, and already found himself shivering with the uncomfortable feeling that she would crush him while making tea. Possibly from his blood.

Now that he had seen her, her position as unofficial queen of Dunwall's underworld made quite a lot of sense - as did Rulfio's reaction when he had told him.

...if Rulfio had ever met her, which was probably something he should question him about at some point.

Granny Rags giggled, a high-pitched sound that felt like knives digging into Daud's ears. "You're such a sweet one, my dear! Now let's see what my birdies say, shall we? My dearies, do come here."

The rat moved, and Daud reacted without thinking. He didn't have a gun, didn't have his trusty wristbow, but he _was_ carrying his usual amount of knives. With a movement that felt like coming home, he pulled one from his boot and threw it, hitting the rat in the back without making a single sound.

A horrifying scream cut through the air. "HE'S HERE!" Granny Rags screeched. "FIND HIM!"

Daud froze for an instant, looking down. She had grabbed Thomas' arm, directing her next words towards him. "You've led him here, dearie. You've led the bad man to your poor, poor Granny. You've," she gasped, "betrayed me. How could you?"

This was bad.

Around them, rats gathered, carpeting the ground like the curtains surrounding the hideout. They were unnaturally quiet, not a single unnecessary movement, not a single noise from any of them.

This was very bad. Was she going to punish the boy for being followed by a professional assassin? Of course she was.

Things had changed, it seemed. It was time for a different approach.

Hitting Granny Rags from his position without endangering Thomas was rather tricky - they had moved directly underneath the beam he was sitting on. That problem was easily solved: A quick transversal carried Daud to the rat he had killed. Pulling out the knife was a purely automatic movement, as was the throw that followed. The knife sunk into Granny Rags' unprotected back.

She burst into a swarm of rats, her inhuman scream cut short but lingering in Daud's ears. He didn't let himself be stopped by it - couldn't afford to, really - and transversed to the ground. It was true that he should simply have left, but as he was starting to learn, he wasn't quite as adept at making the right decision as he used to think.

Then again, he thought, lifting the frozen Thomas up with one arm (the kid was a featherweight and really should get more food than that - he was still growing!), maybe the decisions weren't quite as bad as he tended to make them sound.

The rats didn't take long to realize what was going on - prey had appeared between them. These specimen were large and seemingly insane enough to simply not care that it was human and so many times their size it wasn't even funny. 

It really wasn't.

They moved like a wave, with unstoppable direction and force, hitting thin air the moment Daud transversed again.

He landed on the table the bloody stranger was lying on, the elevation hopefully enough to dissuade the rats from following them long enough for him to catch his breath. The energy drain was something he still had to get used to.

"W-what are you?" Thomas asked. Apparently he had regained control over his voice, which was a good thing. Now if he didn't start to scream or fight, this could still end well. "H-how did you...?"

And if he stopped asking questions. Daud would appreciate that too.

"An annoying kid gave me a tattoo with magical powers," he summed up, not particularly caring if the kid believed him. The more important question was: What should he do with the man?

Who was he kidding – at this point he didn't have much of a choice, did he? Putting the kid down, hoping he'd show some common sense and now jump directly into the writhing mass of rats that was slowly building up underneath them, he picked up the body, threw it over his shoulder, thanked whoever was listening except the Outsider for the man's diminutive built, and grabbed Thomas' arm. Taking a deep breath, Daud pushed away the thought at this might not work (it was an ability meant to transport one person, not an entire group, after all - who knew what kind of failsafe, trap, or really inconvenient prank the Outsider would build into his magic) and pulled on the energies of the Void once more.

Transversing with two additional passengers, twice, was just as exhausting as Daud had imagined. Thomas kicked him in the shin as soon as they were outside and ran as soon as Daud let him go, so he was left alone with a man he didn’t actually know and had only saved because of a strange completionist desire.

Where was he supposed to put him now?

Unlike the warehouse itself, its surroundings were deserted. With how much had happened, however, and considering how loud Granny Rags’ screams had been (he was doing his best to ignore she had turned into _rats_ of all things, thank you very much), he felt it wouldn’t stay that way for long. So, with a soft sigh, Daud transversed onto a fire escape and a neighbouring flat roof.

Putting the hopefully not dead weight on his shoulder down in front of him, he frowned. A hospital could work, he guess, but explaining how he had found a cut up and bloody man with no belongings except the destroyed clothes on his body didn't go particularly well in his mind. He had wanted to blend in, not be a suspect in any kind of crime! Especially one committed with several knives, such as the ones he tended to carry around. Currently. On his body where they would be easily found if someone went looking.

Maybe, if he could claim he knew the man and they had been attacked, and if he still had a certain amount of belongings...

Daud hadn’t actually checked for a wallet or another kind of identification hidden anywhere, but he reasoned that being taken by a ruler of the underworld and then remaining in close proximity with Thomas for several seconds would clear anyone out of their valuables rather quickly.

_ Always check _ , the voice of his teacher echoed in his ears.  _ Others may not. _

“Fine, old bastard.” Rolling his eyes, he resigned himself to attempting to rob an unconscious, potentially dying man to see if he could help him die slightly less as well as talking to people who had actually been dead for more than a decade. This probably wasn’t healthy, but what did he know?

His uncharacteristically happy thoughts continued to keep him company even after realizing that he had been right. The man had nothing, No wallet, no spare change, no random blade sewn into his clothing to be pulled out in a pinch. He hadn’t even gotten to keep his buttons. Wonderful.

What was Daud supposed to do now? He certainly wouldn’t take this man back to his own home - no one who associated with criminals enough to personally ‘meet’ Granny Rags in any kind of way, shape or form would be allowed that close to Billie. Besides, it had taken him ages for her to trust her, so he wouldn’t endanger that by bringing a half-dead man home.

Just leaving him there? Cold but potentially necessary. The man would have died anyways, if Daud hadn’t taken him - probably far more painfully. Death on a rooftop was far better than death in a dark hideout surrounded by rats. At least that was Daud’s personal opinion. If a death like that was this man’s greatest wish, he wouldn’t judge.

Much.

Still, leaving him behind after going through all of that trouble in the first place felt… not right. Maybe he could just drop him off near a hospital, make some noise and hope for the best?

Risky. He could be seen, or maybe no one would see or help the man… oh, and he would have to find the hospital first. It was possible he should have put more of a focus on exploring Dunwall before doing not particularly well thought-out things on this scale.

What else was there? This Bottle Street Gang he had heard about twice now, once as a trap which might have worked if he had known where to find it and hadn’t been warned.

So that was another plan down the drain. What was left? Leaving him behind after all, hoping he'd wake up (and get down) on his own?

Well, at least he could check the wounds, to see if any needed particular attention. It seemed all of the blood was dried, but just in case…

Daud began to push aside the stranger’s clothing to check underneath. Of course the man chose this moment to groan softly and attempted to raise his arms in a defensive movement. Though the timing wasn’t perfect, it was a convenient turn of events Daud certainly hadn’t expected. It was a nice change from all the inconveniences he’d run into on the way here.

Like Granny Rags transforming into rats. It still bothered him. Would Daud eventually turn into rats too? He certainly didn’t hope so. Billie might step on him. _Rulfio_ would probably _pet_ him. And the Outsider would laugh.

He needed to extend his social circle.

Hoping it would prove to be an adequate distraction from rats, he focused his attention on the hopefully not-soon-to-be corpse in front of him. “So,” he said, ignoring how his voice slipped into his usual threatening growl instead of something a bit more reassuring, “you don’t happen to feel like you’re dying, do you?”

The man froze, blinked, squinted against the sun and finally looked towards Daud. “I… what?” Another blink, as if he was trying to clear the image in front of him away and get to the reality behind it. “Who are you? Where… are we?”

Daud rolled his eyes. “I’m the one who dragged you out of that warehouse. You’re welcome. Where should I drop you off, and do you think you can survive until then?” He wasn’t about to tell his name to a stranger with criminal ties, no matter how nicely he asked, and anything else was just wasting time.

“I…” A coughing fit interrupted the man, tearing choking sounds from his chest until he stopped, clutching his side and oozing fresh blood over the dried crusts covering him. Great. Just perfect. “Bottle Street,” he wheezed, a pained expression on his face. “And… I’ll be fine. She had a lot more planned for me, I think.”

Well, it seemed Daud had been onto something with that Bottle Street thought. And he was not going to think too much about that last part...

Still, one problem remained. “Where... exactly is that?”

From the stare he got, apparently the placement of Bottle Street was a widely known thing in Dunwall. Which was good to know, if a bit humiliating.

“Distillery District,” the man finally managed to press out between clenched teeth, brain furrowed in pain. They should probably get moving soon.

Daud nodded. That was something he could actually place. Not that he’d ever entered, but at least he could get to it. Maybe hand the stranger over to the first shady person he could find - that sounded like a good plan.

“Alright then,” he decided, “let’s get you there.” With those words as his only warning, he unceremoniously scooped up the living but luckily not kicking headache in his arms. Simply throwing him over his shoulder would probably be easier (and lighter), but he really didn’t want to stain his coat too much. Oh, and it would hurt more, he presumed, which was probably a problem too. The screams could attract attention, after all. Completely ignoring the surprised “h-hey” of the other man, he stepped towards the edge of the roof, judged the distance, ignored the increasingly frantic wiggling in his arms, and transversed.

At least Billie was entertained with Samuel, he thought to himself, because this was going to take longer than expected.

  


Finding someone shady in the Distillery District was more difficult than anticipated – the streets were empty. A sense of foreboding hung in the air, as if everyone in it was either preparing for something big or trying very hard to avoid getting in anyone’s way.

Daud had the bad feeling that it had to do with the man he was carrying in his arms.

Said man, who still hadn’t told Daud his name (though to be fair, he hadn’t shared his own either, or asked, or indicated any kind of interest in things other than making sure the stranger didn’t die anywhere near Daud), had, after a short moment of shock, closed his eyes and started muttering. Daud wasn’t sure if those were prayers, curses, or simply meaningless phrases, but if they helped… it wasn’t like his words would hurt anyone. And the situation was rather unusual – Daud himself was, after all, still getting used to his powers. For someone who hadn’t been to the Void, or even believed that it existed, its touch was likely far more disturbing. 

Billie hadn’t shown any reluctance when faced with her arm and eye, but his girl was special. The man he was carrying? Probably not.

Even so, with the way things were going, the plan of simply dropping his load off and burdening a random citizen didn’t seem like it would work, considering the state of things. They would have to communicate.

“Is it always this empty here or is there a special occasion?”

The stranger flinched and opened his eyes, staring into empty space. He began to blink rapidly, looked around, and finally focused on Daud. “Are we there already? Put me down.”

Daud raised his eyebrows, hoping the small, visible part of his face would convey his disbelief that the man would be able to keep himself upright in any way, and set him on the ground, still keeping hold of his arm. A good decision, it turned out when the man’s legs buckled under his weight and almost sent him falling down into the street. Was this how people got into life saving, putting in more and more work just to make sure all of it didn’t go to waste? It seemed like an incredibly efficient scam.

“That’s… weird. Get us down there, with your... “ The man waved his free arm and flinched from the movement. “With your thing.”

His thing. Of course. What was he, a delivery service?

Gripping the man tighter, Daud transversed down onto the street. The buildings here weren’t as high as the ones back where they’d come from, so luckily this wasn't much of a problem.

“What now?” he asked. “We wait until someone shows up?”

The man nodded. Of course he did, why had Daud even asked? “Slackjaw has eyes and ears everywhere. It won’t take-” He coughed, then continued, “It won’t take long. He’s probably nearby.”

Wasn’t that a comforting thought? Daud loved it when gang leaders were nearby. It made him feel safe. When they were dead and their bodies taken care of so he’d have at least several hours to slip away unnoticed and erase every trace of his presence. Not if they were going to step out on the street next to him looking for the man he was currently barely keeping on his feet.

Kind of the way Slackjaw was doing right now.

To be fair, Daud didn’t actually know if that was him. He had, after all, never met him, barely heard whispers, and people like him didn’t exactly wear name tags. Still, he was the biggest, meanest man in a decently sized group of big, mean-looking men walking towards them, and when he raised his hand, they stopped immediately.

Really – Daud wasn’t dressed for this occasion. He wasn’t carrying nearly enough knives. Especially now that he had left one of his favourites on the ground in Granny Rags’ lair, surrounded by potentially man-eating rats. How was he supposed to make a good impression?

“Crowley, is that you?” Barely suppressed worry filled the presumed leader’s voice as he stepped closer. If Daud hadn’t been able to teleport at a moment's notice, he would've pushed his load - Crowley, was it? - towards him and run when he was still on the rooftop.

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t have pushed him off the rooftop. Still, that distance felt a lot safer than _this_. The man wasn’t carrying any weapons, but Daud was convinced he didn’t need them. It was possible he could crush a man’s head with his bare hands. He didn’t need to experience that to believe it.

He didn't particularly want to experience it either.

Crowley looked up. “Isaiah?” he asked, a small, exhausted smile appearing on his face. “You’re here.” He turned his head slightly, addressing Daud. “Told you he’d be here.”

So it _was_ Slackjaw. Daud hoped he didn’t mind his name being known. Meeting _two_ powerful crime leaders in an uncomfortably hostile way was not how he'd been planning to spend his day, especially if, as he suspected, his knife hadn’t actually killed Granny Rags. The whole ‘turning into rats’ thing did point in that direction. 

It still bothered him. Did it come with the powers? If not, had she put actual time and energy into turning into rats? Why would anyone  _ do _ that?

“You did, great plan. Here,” he continued, Crowley’s arm held out towards Slackjaw. “Have your man back.”

Slackjaw took Crowley before Daud could finish his sentence, freeing him both from the weight that was starting to get annoying and the obligation to stay. With the gang leader’s attention fully on his rescued underling (who, compared to the massive man, was positively tiny), _fussing_ over him, this was a great time for Daud to disappear.

He took a step backwards, looked down on himself, and grimaced. He didn’t know how he hadn’t expected this, but seeing his shirt stained with blood was a rather unpleasant surprise. What was he going to tell Billie?

With his movement, Slackjaw’s attention shifted back towards him. His chances to simply walk away without having to talk vanished the way he hadn't. This day kept getting better and better.

“Tyrrell! Vincent! Get your asses here,” Slackjaw ordered, gesturing towards two of his men. One was almost as huge as Slackjaw himself, the other closer to Daud in size. Two goons thought to be ideal to beat him up?

Daud tensed, not at all happy with this development.

“Thanks for getting Crowley back here,” Slackjaw began, carefully repositioning said man into the arms of the taller gang member he had called over.

Now Daud was getting nervous. Was there some kind of  _ but _ , something he wanted to take care of himself? Should he run? Pull out a knife?  Transverse ? Crowley had been one thing - that man was half-dead, anything he claimed to have seen could be shrugged off with the excuse of shock and his injuries. But in front of this many people  who weren't distracted anymore ?

Daud preferred his abilities to stay secret, but he also preferred to be alive.

Slackjaw held out one hand. “If you’ll allow us, we’ll get your shirt cleaned. It’s the least we can do.”

Wait, what?

“You can get it back tomorrow. Vincent here would lend you his coat until then.”

No, really - what?

It took a moment for Daud’s mind to adjust to this situation. Why would he...

Oh. It seemed Slackjaw had noticed his urge to get as far away from him as possible but was looking for an actual conversation with him as well. This, while being a nice gesture, was also an attempt at getting him to return soon for an actual talk. Not a particularly heavy-handed one, but when push came to shove, it was also a good excuse to go looking for him. And unless Daud wanted to take to the rooftops again or walk through half of the city covered in blood, it was an offer he had to accept.

It was a good thing Daud had been planning to talk to Slackjaw soon as well.

He smiled wryly, though no one could see it through the scarf still partway covering his face. “Thanks for your kind offer. I’d like to keep my shirt on” - being half naked while surrounded by a gang sounded like one of his worse ideas, and he at least _tried_ to avoid those - “but the coat would be welcome. It’s getting a bit colder than I expected.”

It wasn’t getting cold at all, especially not after he’d just carried a man over the rooftops for several minutes. Slackjaw was considerate enough to not call him out on his lie at all. He merely looked at Vincent who took off his coat and held it out for Daud to take.

At least now Daud knew why Slackjaw had picked him of all people. Drowning in clothes was probably an interesting way to go, one Daud had never considered, but not particularly conducive to him agreeing to any kind of deal at all.

And he had a feeling that Slackjaw was planning to offer him just that, a deal.

The coat was still a bit large on him, but far better than having to explain to Billie where exactly the blood on his clothes had come from, if not from him. It was best to have her get used to a normal life, or as normal as it could be with an arm that consisted of bone, metal, and magic, and an eye that was… Daud wasn’t actually sure. It was red. Eye-shaped. It could have been an alien for all that he knew. A piece of pure magic. A rock the Outsider had painted red with finger paint.

Maybe Daud should ask him, if the deity decided to interrupt his sleep again. He probably wouldn’t get an answer, but who knew?

Moving on, it was time to act like the innocent citizen he was not. Starting by talking to the gang leader in front of him.

Daud seemed to have made some elementary mistakes in his disguise.

“So I’m guessing you want this back by tomorrow?”

Slackjaw nodded. “If you can manage.”

“Probably.” Daud shrugged. “It might get late though.” He did have to dig up his old ‘uniform’. It had been a while since he’d needed that…

The smile on Slackjaw’s face could have put sharks to shame. “We’ll be here. Actually, not exactly – we’ll be at the Dunwall Whiskey Distillery. It’s not too far, two streets from here. The yellow sign back there.” He pointed in a vague direction behind him. “You can’t miss it.”

Daud could miss it, he was sure. Not that he’d say it.

“Great. I guess we’re done here, then?” Could he finally leave?

Slackjaw gave a curt nod. “I’ll be seeing you.”

_ Not if I do my job right _ , was Daud’s first thought, followed by,  _ actually, since I’m not  _ _ planning _ _ to kill him… he’s right. _

Daud did not like that. Still, if it got the debt to the Outsider repaid, the one he'd taken on for Billie…

He’d do anything for  her . Talking to Slackjaw was a small price for her continued company and wellbeing.

 

 

Far underneath Dunwall, in her true hideout, Granny pulled herself back together, separating from her dearies. That rude intruder had hurt her! And her Thomas, dearest Thomas, had betrayed her.

Steps would have to be taken.

“ Dearies, my dearies! Swarm out, bring me the weapon! Be good little birdies, and I’ll reward you well!”

Looking after her family skittering into the tunnels, Granny smiled. She had a ritual to prepare.


	8. People Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daud is reminded of the fact that he doesn't have friends. Several times.

Dodging Billie’s questions about his new coat on their way home proved to be more of a challenge than he had thought - enough for Daud to regret ever agreeing to the deal in the first place.

“I met up with a friend, it got cold, they gave me their jacket. I’ll have to give it back tomorrow.”

Billie’s grin was sharp enough to cut through steel and kill a man behind it. “Was that friend Rulfio?”

Where had she gotten that idea from, and what exactly did that expression on her face mean? Daud wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. It looked like far too much trouble. “No, it wasn’t him. I do have other friends.”

He did not, in fact, have other friends. The way Billie looked at him let him know that she was fully aware of this and didn’t believe his bullshit for a second.

Maybe, he thought, lying to her when he had barely gained her trust was not the right decision.

Daud sighed. “Alright, I don’t have _that_ many friends. What I did do today was that I talked to some people, got something spilled on my shirt, it got cold and potentially embarrassing, so they gave me something to cover it up with. I _do_ have to give it back tomorrow though.”

“Too bad – it suits you.”

What had he done to deserve this? “It’s bright red.”

She shrugged. “I like red,” was her only explanation. “So what did you spill on your shirt?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? The urge to say ‘tomato sauce’ was strong enough that he almost said it, but… trust. Honesty. He had just lied to her, then told her the truth, and now he was going to lie again? That wasn’t the kind of father figure he wanted to be.

Now if he could just figure out what he _was_ aiming for...

“Blood. I carried an injured person for a bit,” he hurried to add, before she could come to a wrong conclusion. “Nothing shady or violent going on.” Apart from him sneaking around, throwing knives into old women, and associating with criminals. Maybe he wasn’t the best father figure after all.

Possibly still better than none at all though.

Billie stared at him. “Sure. Tell me when I’m allowed to pickpocket again.”

“Never.”

“Reverse-pickpocket?”

Now this was suspiciously specific. “What exactly are you planning on putting into someone’s pockets?”

Billie’s smile was as innocent as that of a newborn baby, if said baby was a reborn troublemaker with plans to continue their mischief. “Nothing at all, which is why it'd be totally okay to let me do it. Why did you have to leave in the first place?”

She wasn’t going to let this one go, was she? Too bad Daud refused to tell her about the supernatural parts. She hadn't questioned where the arm and eye had come from, so he hadn't really told her about the Outsider yet. That was a can of worms he did not want to go into right now.

“It was a favor for someone from that limited amount of friends you seem to enjoy reminding me of.” The Outsider counted, right? “And yes, said favor involved carrying around an injured person. How was your time with Samuel?”

This question proved to be just what was needed to get Billie talking, and the rest of their way home she spent explaining everything Daud had never thought he’d need to know about ships. It wasn’t a topic that had ever interested him, but listening to Billie did make him wonder.

Maybe if they moved just a bit less...

  


Rulfio, it turned out, had a rather amusing face when caught completely off-guard by something. Adorable, too.

Daud chose to ignore that thought.

“ Wait.  _ What?! _ ”  Rulfio's eyebrows were raised, eyes squinted, a helpless, confused smile on his face. Daud wondered if he was going to start crying.  Maybe he shouldn't have dropped this on him without giving him the opportunity to prepare mentally.

Then again, how did one prepare for a question like this?

“Does Granny Rags seem like a cannibal to you?” Daud repeated patiently. “Do you think she eats people?”

“Why? Why would you ask that?”

Rulfio’s skin looked unhealthily pale, but Daud didn’t let himself be stopped by that. The rats still bothered him, especially with how hungry they had looked. Did Granny Rags eat people when she was a rat? Was she a rat? Was she several rats? Or did they just replace her?

If you were a human who turned into a rat and than ate another human, was that still cannibalism?

Daud shrugged, pushing those thoughts away once more. Rulfio didn't seem to have more answers “I don’t know, just… wondering, I guess.”

For all of last night. The questions had kept him up for hours. When Granny Rags turned into rats, did that mean she died? Did it mean she didn’t die and escaped? If he had killed every single rat she had turned into, would that have meant her death?

What kind of person thought turning into _rats_ when threatened was a good idea? What if one of the rats died - would she end up with half a hand less or something? Part of her stomach gone, or of her brain?

He really needed to stop thinking about this.

Rulfio groaned, a faraway look in his eyes Daud couldn’t quite place. “Well, I’m not. That’s one of the things I really don’t want to know. If you ever find out, please don’t tell me.” He paused. “Actually… please don’t find out at all.”

Worrying about Daud seemed to be a new trend – everyone seemed to do it nowadays. Then again, if he didn’t want them to worry, maybe he shouldn’t have started this crusade against possibly the most dangerous person in all of Dunwall. It had seemed like a good idea at the time…

Alright, it had never seemed like a good idea, first because of the Outsider, then it had been th elack of thinking about his actions. Still, he’d had to do _something,_ though something slightly less conspicuous would have been a better option.

Lying to Rulfio wasn't quite as bad as lying to Billie. Still, Daud felt uncomfortably guilty when he smiled at his friend, trying to project trustworthiness. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful and stay away from her.”

  


After work, Daud hurried home. Billie wasn’t there yet - that morning he’d told her to stay with Samuel a bit longer, that he’d be home late. She had been delighted and suspicious at the same time. She'd also kept demanding whether he was going to see Rulfio.

Her expectations of his social life were baffling.

Changing back into his old assassin outfit, a dark red – useful for hiding bloodstains and fading into the background, not the bright color of the coat he'd gotten –, didn’t take long. He checked his knives, put on his wristbow, and reached for the mask. At the last moment, he hesitated, looking back and forth between the fake Overseer mask he'd used for almost the entirety of his career and the whaling mask he had grabbed on his way out of Cullero, trying to avoid being recognised or associated with Billie.

Was it really wise to announce his return like this? The Outsider’s Mark, he had been told by the little black-eyed shit, was capable of protecting his identity up to a certain point, but this… it was probably too much even for magic.

Daud put on the whaling mask. It was vaguely uncomfortable, smelled of rubber, and limited his sight to a certain degree, but it would do its job until he could find a better one. Not being recognized was the most important thing about all of this.

Putting on his old costume, even with the changed mask, felt a lot like coming home. But even after only a month it was a home he had distanced himself from, one that hadn’t changed at all while he had (hopefully) become a new person. It didn’t feel right anymore, didn’t feel… whole.

With a sigh he grabbed the coat hanging over the back of a chair and threw it on, sensing a piece of a puzzle he didn’t know was looking for slot into place. This… this felt right, this was the change he needed. It wasn’t particularly stealthy, but if he stayed out of sight…

The Outsider had given him other ways of doing that.

He’d have to look into getting one of those coats himself. Taking fashion advice from known criminals was probably one of the least questionable things he was going to do today, depending on the information Slackjaw had.

With a last look around to see if he had missed anything, Daud exited the apartment. The window near the stairs was conveniently placed for what he was planning. He opened it, looked around, then transversed to the nearest roof.

The way to the Distillery District didn’t take him long, the greater challenge proved to be finding the specific distillery the Bottle Street Gang was holed up in. Luckily Slackjaw had been right in pointing out the sign above it - the almost painfully bright yellow was indeed hard to miss.

Crouching on a low neighboring rooftop, halfway hidden behind a chimney, Daud looked around. There were several gang members around, though they weren’t particularly watchful. He assumed there were some guards posted outside, ready to alarm the entire group should it be needed, but still - it was a disgrace. There were always people like him, capable of dodging those and sneaking in undetected.

Well, maybe not all that many quite like him.

Still, his point stood. Even before meeting the Outsider, sneaking in here would have been a piece of cake for him. He’d have to tell Slackjaw to train his men better.

Daud spent half a second contemplating on how gaining his powers had led to him taking a worrying amount of unnecessary risks. Then he dropped down from the roof right in front of one of Slackjaw’s men.

“Your boss said he’d like to talk to me.”

The man yelped, fumbled for his gun, dropped it, fumbled for his knife…

Pathetic. Before the other could get a good grip on the weapon, Daud pulled it from his hand. “You should work on that,” he advised, “or look into getting a different job.”

“I… who are you?”

It was really too bad Daud wore a mask - it meant he had to put his incredulousness into words.

“I’m very obviously hiding my identity. Why would you think I’d tell you?”

The man - he was young, Daud didn’t even know if he was old enough to drink the alcohol made here yet, at least legally - flushed. “Yes, but…” His words turned into wild stuttering, until Daud was certain he could ask him for his name and not get a coherent answer.

It was amusing for a while, but Daud finally showed mercy, or whatever passed for it. “I dragged someone called Crowley back here yesterday. Does that help?”

Judging by the wide-eyed look the young man gave him, it did indeed. “That… that was you? You went up against Granny Rags? On your own?”

Oh no. Please, no. Daud hadn’t expected hero worship. This was not okay.

“Where’s Slackjaw?” he asked, hoping he’d get a quick answer and end this before it could get any worse.

“ Oh… the boss? He’s…” The man looked around. “He’s in the main building, over there. You…” Suddenly he seemed very uncomfortable. “You’ll have to leave your weapons outside, no one’s allowed in there armed. It’s… standard procedure.” His entire being screamed  _ please don’t kill me, I’m only trying to do my job. _

That wasn’t ideal, but Daud would have to deal with it. As long as they didn’t take the word ‘disarming’ literally.

He nodded. “Alright. Remember to train with your gun. Oh, and with your knife.” The knife he was still holding. Daud handed it back to the gang member, turned and strode towards the indicated building, a rickety-looking one that seemed like it had been on fire at some point. In front of it stood a woman, sending him a glare from the other side of the courtyard. It seemed she hadn’t missed his sudden arrival.

Daud was beginning to realize this would end up taking longer than expected.

  


The eyes of the Bottle Street Gang member in front of Daud grew along with the pile of knives he drew from all kinds of hiding spots and placed on the table. She reached for one, as if he’d have to touch it to know it was real. “That’s… How many-?”

“Careful,” Daud warned, “they’re sharp.”

“All of them?!”

Daud wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to that question. “I’m not going to sharpen just one. What'd be the point?” Did she think he had time to check whether a knife was sharp before using it? What should he use a blunt one for?

The warning, it seemed, hadn’t worked quite as intended. The gang member touched one of the knives and jumped back, finger in her mouth and a drop of blood on the blade. “They really _are_ sharp.” She actually had the gall to sound surprised.

“Which is exactly what I said,” Daud couldn’t resist to say. “Now would you like to find out if losing a finger actually hurts or are you going to take my word for it?”

The woman flushed. “No, I… I’m sorry. How many knives do you have? Are you… are you done?”

Daud pulled another knife from his sleeve. “What does it look like?”

Both a sigh and a low chuckle answered him, and he was absolutely certain they didn’t come from the same source. Which meant that someone had joined them. Looking up, he realized it was Slackjaw. 

Daud grinned, though it was hidden behind the mask, and gestured towards the table – or, more fittingly, the pile of weapons probably sufficient for equipping the entire Bottle Street Gang. “I did want to show up earlier, but I got a bit held up.”

Slackjaw snorted. “Did you rob a weapon store, or is all of this yours?”

“All mine, I’m afraid.” Daud paused. “Should I finish here? Because that could take a while.” He still had a lot of weapons squirreled away. You could never be careful enough.

“No need.” Waving the gang member aside, Slackjaw took her place. “You pick all that back up while we talk, that good?”

Daud nodded, reaching for his weapons, and Slackjaw continued.

“You seem to be new in the city, so I’ll explain some things to you. Granny Rags is a bogeyman in this city. Whatever you can think of, she has done it - theft, assault, murder, kidnapping, cannibalism… you name it.”

So the rat thing did count as cannibalism. Good to know. Or did she do a more traditional version as well?

“What you may not know is that there’s a slightly more… esoteric side to her. We’re not sure how she does it, but she just… doesn’t die. She knows things she shouldn’t, claims she can talk to rats of all things, some of my men swear they’ve seen her teleport. Things like that. We’re not sure which part of that is true, but she’s not normal.”

Daud wondered if Crowley had told them about him teleporting and, if yes, if they’d simply put it down as hallucinations.

“We’ve been trying to get rid of her for years, but she keeps coming back, taking my men whenever she can. Never an open attack, but she’s wearing us down.”

This was sounding to start suspicious. The force with which Daud pushed two knives back into his boots could have cut off half of his foot if he'd missed hidden sheaths. “Why are you telling me that?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Slackjaw grinned. “Well, now that you’ve gotten Crowley out of there, you’ve put yourself on the map. She’s going to come looking for you, and no matter your disguise, she always finds who she’s looking for.”

Yes, that was exactly what Daud hadn’t wanted to hear. Pitching his own magic against someone else’s when he had about a month of experience _not_ using it sounded delightful. And the Outsider’s ‘gift’ of inconspicuousness probably didn’t include not being recognized by said magic. Great. Brilliant. Wonderful. This was the best news he’d heard all day.

It was time to tune down the sarcasm before it actually slipped out.

“So you’re, what, asking for my help in dealing with her?”

Slackjaw nodded - of course. Things could never be easy. Then again, this was essentially what the Outsider had asked him to do, right? He might have asked him to help her get rid of Slackjaw instead, but that didn’t seem like the Outsider’s style.

That deity was all about style, or unnecessary drama he considered to be style.

Daud sighed. “Why me?” he asked, clicking the wristbow back into place and trying to gain some time to get used to the thought of diving right back into his old unlawful life. “What would make you think I can help you?”

“You got Crowley out of her clutches. No one has ever managed to get anyone back. Until now.”

Of course. This was going to come back to bite his ass for a long time, wasn’t it?

Daud raised his eyebrows, picking up another set of knives and opened his mouth to speak.

Slackjaw was faster. “We’ll compensate you, of course. We have ways of getting whatever you need - money, whiskey, cigars, manpower, our own methods for getting people out of your way…”

“ I don’t think-”  _ I’d have problems  _ _ with _ _ that. _

“If you work with us in this, it doesn’t necessarily mean you join us. Look, I’ll even throw in that coat as a gift, it suits you and you seem to like it. Vincent will be delighted to get a new one.”

Maybe showing up wearing it hadn't been Daud’s best idea… but Slackjaw was right. Though he had to admit, this was a rather cheap way of bribing someone.

Then again, with pressure now from several sides, all of them wanting to get rid of Granny Rags, and with her shadow looming over him...

This way, he’d at least have someone on his side.

Slotting the last knife back into the hidden folds of clothing it had come from, Daud looked up. “I’m in, for now. What do you have?”

Slackjaw gestured for him to follow and led him into the old distillery. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  


  


  


The next day, Daud arrived at work yawning - he had been up late being led around by Slackjaw, then he’d had trouble sleeping, and now he was faced with work. He almost wished he could go back to his old ways of working and sleeping whenever he felt like it, though preferably without the murder.

But what he had learned yesterday...

A secret lair in the sewers. He should have known - it had rats, it was appropriately creepy, people didn’t go there, and if they did, they got lost. And, of course, most importantly: Daud _hated_ sewers. They were cold, they were damp, sounds carried seemingly forever, and, of course, sometimes you had to wade through the shit humanity tended to produce throughout their lives and hope you didn’t catch their idiocy.

Oh, and the excrement. That was a problem as well.

Now that the question about the cannibalism had (mostly) been cleared up, it was the sewers that kept him busy. Slackjaw’s men had searched through them for months, looking for traces of Granny Rags. They had come pretty close, it seemed, finding a rather promising spot in the depths. There was only one problem – a cave-in that denied them access to where they suspected the hideout had to be, one they had assumed Granny Rags would need tools nearby to traverse. Tools they hadn't found yet.

Daud was rather certain he knew how she did it, though he hadn’t told Slackjaw that. He’d only ask questions, and while explaining the Outsider to a child was something he could probably manage, should that day ever come, explaining the same thing to a grown man who might have heard of the deity before…

Daud had decided to take his chances and return the next day instead of acting immediately. Which meant today. It was likely Granny Rags would need a few days to prepare an attack on him, which would, according to Slackjaw, be the way she usually did things. Wait until the victim thought itself secure, then strike.

Speaking of strike…

Daud checked the time. Rulfio was late. Far too late. It wouldn’t have been too worrying if not for the fact that Rulfio was _never_ late. The one time he hadn’t been _early_ he had messaged Daud to let him know.

It had been two hours, and he wasn’t answering his phone or messages. Daud tried to shake off the feeling that something was wrong, but it proved to be rather clingy.

He’d have to leave Billie in Samuel’s capable hands again and go check up on Rulfio after work. There was a cannibalistic rat lady loose in the city and Daud was worried. Just a bit.

  


Daud knew where Rulfio lived. In theory. In practice, after getting to the general area it took him another half hour to find the place – half an hour filled with his attempts to read maps, follow signs, and finding someone who actually knew the area. In the end, he found himself in front of a generic-looking building he'd have sworn he’d passed by at least three times.

This time, though, Rulfio’s name was on the bell panel, so it was probably the right place.

Rulfio didn’t open the door when Daud rang the bell. That would have been far too easy. Daud eyed the speaker next to the doorbells and wondered how suspicious Rulfio’s neighbors were of random strangers.

He picked a random one, an interesting sounding name. Van Veen, that was a good one. Pressing the button three times in quick succession, he was rewarded with an annoyed “Who’s there?”

Just as planned. “Oh, hi, I’m sorry,” he stated in the most pitiful tone he could manage. “I must have left my keys inside. I only stepped out for a second, but the door just…”

The sound of the buzzer interrupted him, and Daud grinned. That had been far too easy. Really, Rulfio should invest in a new neighbor. This one was incredibly unsafe. Did he know how many others could come in and pick his lock, just the way Daud was doing right now? He should be thankful such a security risk got exposed.

After he had managed to force the door open after only a few moments of struggling with the lock (a better one was something else Rulfio should spend some money on as soon as possible), the apartment behind it showed he was most certainly not the first one to have come up with such a genius (standard) way in. Daud was looking at a battlefield. Overturned furniture, smatters of blood and rat viscera, and a certain chewed-on look to everything in sight. This… this was bad.

“Rulfio?” Daud called out, already knowing there wouldn’t be an answer. “Are you there?”

Doom might have filled in the air like the sword of Damocles ready to fall upon his head, but he couldn’t _not_ attempt to find a harmless explanation for the situation. Not when the alternative was Granny Rags. 

Kneeling down next to the crushed corpse of a rat, Daud clenched his hand into a fist. It had to have been  her . She had  tracked down Rulfio and taken him. Maybe he was already dead…

No! Daud couldn’t think like that. He had seen it with Crowley – Granny Rags liked her victims alive, at least for a while. Rulfio wouldn’t, couldn’t be different. Daud wouldn't let that happen.

How had she found him in the first place? Was she going to come for Billie next?

Daud was out of the door before he could finish that thought. He had to see her now, had to know if she was safe. The school would have called him if she’d just vanished from there, but a lot could happen to a child on the way from school to the harbor…

Next on the list of things to get: a phone for Billie. A way to check in with her, see if she was safe. Why hadn’t he gotten around to that earlier?

He barely remembered to pull Rulfio’s front door closed behind him before he took off, speedwalking towards the harbor as quickly as he could without drawing the attention of nearby rats.

Back in the old days he’d never had to worry about a random rodent’s opinions. What had his life come to?  


 

In retrospect, Daud may have overreacted a bit when he reached the Amaranth, put away his mask so he'd actually see soemthing, and didn’t immediately spot Billie. A little bit. Almost unnoticeably.

In other words, he’d been half a second from pulling a knife on Samuel when she stepped around a corner and said, “hey Dad, what are you doing here?”

Daud discreetly let the knife slide back into its sheath. No need to cause a panic… poor Samuel didn’t deserve that kind of thing. He wouldn’t have deserved the knife pushed into his throat either, but since that hadn't happened after all, there was no need to think about it further. No harm done, right?

“Hey, Billie!” Daud smiled softly at the sight of her. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

She frowned and followed him. “Sure. What’s wrong, Dad?”

Now how was he going to say this?

Honestly - that was what they had established yesterday, wasn’t it?

“There seems to be trouble brewing, and it might not be safe for you back home. Just tonight though.” Hopefully. “I’ll be home late. Would it be alright for you to stay with Samuel for the night? If he agrees to, that is.” That should be safe, no one should know about their connection. At least that was what he was hoping…

Billie frowned. “Have you done something bad?”

Bad? “No, I didn’t. It’s just… I’ll explain it tomorrow, alright?” Bad was the exact opposite of what he had done. Except if one questioned wisdom, then it was pretty bad…

Suddenly he remembered something, and he dug around in his pockets. “Right, I wanted to give you this…” He held out one of his sheathed knives for her. “Be careful with it, but don’t be afraid to use it. Alright? You do know how, don’t you? Oh, and don’t show it around.”

Did children know how to use knives at that age? Daud wasn’t entirely sure.

Billie stared at it. “You… you’re giving me one of your knives?” She reached out slowly, carefully, as if he was going to pull it away any second. Then she held it, looking down at it as if it was the greatest treasure she had ever owned. “Just… giving it to me like that? One of your knives?”

Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea.

“Remember, be careful with it, or I’ll have to take it back.”

Judging by how possessively she curled around the weapon, he doubted he’d be able to. Still, he had to say it.

“I’ll be careful.” She pouted. “I’m not a baby.”

That was debatable.

“Good. Stay safe. Should I ask Samuel if he’ll take care of you for the night?”

She looked at him as if she was searching for something, and finally she nodded. “Alright, go ahead. If it’ll make you feel better.”

It did make him feel better. A lot better.

Samuel was confused, but understanding. “I guess the others at the pub will be alright on their own for a night,” he agreed. “Say, lass, have you ever slept on a boat?”

Billie’s eyes grew wide. “No. Are we gonna do that? Wait. Pub? The one Daud went to, the one with the apple soda?”

Daud hoped her eyes weren’t going to fall out of her face, with the size they were growing. This plan – this reckless idea – sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. At least on the ship they'd be safe from rats. Probably. They wouldn’t randomly search ships, would they?

The idea of rats doing anything like that was ridiculous… but wasn’t this his life now? Ridiculous and life threatening and not well thought out at all.

Just for today, he reminded himself. Soon everything would go back to normal, as soon as he finished that favor the Outsider had asked. No matter what it was originally intended to be, he was now going to take it as an assassination request.

Knowing the Outsider, that had been the point.

“Let’s ask your father, lass,” Samuel’s words broke through his thoughts. “Mr. Foster, ‘s it alright if I take her to the Hound Pits? It’d be just apple soda for her.”

Take her there, so she’d be exposed to the chaos Rulfio called his uncles? No, never!

“Please, Dad?”

Daud sighed. As if he could resist those two words. “Alright, but have her in bed by ten. I can probably make it here in time to wake her up… oh, and I’ll bring by some things in a bit. I…”

He looked at Billie, moved to say something, but stopped. What was he going to say? ‘Everything will be alright’? ‘Don’t murder anyone’? ‘Don’t worry, I’ll kill the bad guys and be back in time for breakfast’? ‘Don’t show him your arm powered by forces beyond our understanding because he might sell us out to the Abbey for dark magic and they’d kill us for it’?

There was nothing he should actually put into words, so he’ll settled on something meaningless but non-threatening. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t get in trouble.”

She absolutely would.  He knew she would. Hopefully Samuel would be able to deal with it on his own.

 

 

Getting back home, changing, packing all of Billie’s things, and going back to the harbor took time, time Daud didn’t necessarily have. But Billie… Billie came first. Rulfio came second, a surprisingly close second, but still just second.

Fooling his daughter, as Daud had learned recently, was not only unwise but also impossible, so while he transversed around Samuel when he wasn’t looking, he did show himself to Billie, taking off his mask once more as soon as she caught sight of him.

“Here’s your things.” Daud handed her a backpack. “Don’t forget to keep the glove on. If he does something you don’t like, kick or stab him.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Billie rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine, Dad. Go do your illegal thing.”

“It’s not illegal,” he argued. “Just… dangerous.”

Unless he ended up killing Granny Rags, in which case it very much _was_ illegal. If you could even kill someone who turned into rats if hit.

“Alright, go already.”

And just like that, Daud held an armful of Billie in a hug, too shocked to move. Was this… alright for her?

He remained frozen for a few moments after she let go, only remembering what he had to do when she pushed the mask back onto his face.

“Good luck, Dad.”

Daud smiled, even though she couldn’t see it anymore. “Good night, Billie. Sleep well.”

And he was off, transversing across rooftops towards the Distillery District. He had a crime boss to meet, another to  track down , and a friend to save.

 

 

Granny looked down at her prey. It didn't smell right, her dearies told her. But the magic, her darling husband's gift, along with the imprint on the knife, had led her to him. Only to him. No other connections, no one else he spent time with.

Such a shame – a young, good-looking man without friends, without family. If only he'd loved his Granny at least.

Shaking her head, she left her darlings to play with him and turned to her child, her dear Thomas. Her traitor.

"Now, now, my dear – I do hope you'll stay for dinner."

Granny Rags smiled. This would be a feast for her and all of her little birdies. How she was looking forward to it!


	9. Just As Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daud has a plan, really. It just... lacks details.

This time Daud didn’t bother with niceties like an appointment, a warning, or disarming. He simply jumped down in front of Slackjaw, completely ignored the weapons being drawn all around him, and demanded, “Show me that possible entrance to Granny Rags’ lair you found. Now.”

Slackjaw, to his credit, didn't argue or ask unecessary questions. He simply gestured towards his men to stand down, accompanied by the sound of clothes rustling and blades being sheathed, then for Daud to follow. If he had been emotionally capable of it at that moment, Daud would have wondered what it took to surprise Slackjaw. Instead he simply followed as he was being led into the cellar, to a hole in the wall opening up to darkness, only dimly lit by sparsely placed lanterns.

“This leads to the sewers,” Slackjaw explained. “We’ve left markings on the walls, next to the lanterns. The red ones lead to her. Good luck.”

He didn’t even ask if Daud had a plan, which Daud appreciated. After all, he didn’t really know. Did ‘get Rulfio away from one of the most dangerous people ever’ count as a plan? It was the only one he had, apart from possibly ‘set fire to Granny Rags and everything rat’, so it would have to be enough.

Daud nodded wordlessly and transversed to the nearest lantern, looking for the symbols. There were arrows of all colors - black, green, white, yellow… but where was the red?

Looking around the corner, Daud finally found it. The signage in these sewers could be improved, he decided. Maybe he should bring that up to Slackjaw?

He was off to the next lantern before he could dwell on that thought, noticing with relief that it was at almost perfect transversal distance. No need to stumble through the dark and step into questionable substances!

Oh, and it was probably faster this way too.

He made his way through the sewers, sometimes pausing for a second and taking a detour to avoid rats he spotted. The arrows grew increasingly worrying, the color fading from the bright red they had been at the beginning into a rusty, crumbling mess that looked suspiciously like blood. Rat blood, hopefully, which would also serve to explain why Granny Rags hated the Bottle Street Gang as much as Slackjaw claimed she did.

The image of dying men giving up their lives to leave behind markings didn’t leave Daud until he reached the end of the arrows, the last ones once again the bright red he had seen at the beginning. Maybe they’d just run out of the right color of paint. That had to be it.

Fingers reaching for the wall in a desperate bid for hope…

Daud shook his head. This was not the time for his imagination to run wild. Rulfio’s life was on the line. Looking around, he tried to spot the ‘unreachable place’ Slackjaw had talked about. 

A wall, horrible darkness potentially filled with monstrous rats, another horrible darkness perfect for hiding the bodies of mortal enemies, another one ready to swallow him and spit him into the Void so the Outsider could make fun of him… what a wonderful place. Now where was Granny Rags?

A scream tore through the silence, cutting through Daud’s soul and leaving him furious. That had been Rulfio’s voice! He was still alive… and in pain.

Granny Rags would pay.

Turning back towards the wall, Daud tried his best to look for a way past it. A hole, a way above it, a way around… Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he used it to light the way into the darkness around him. There had to be another way in, any way. Granny Rags had gotten in as well, so why shouldn't he?

Moving his light to the right, he spotted a swirling mass of bodies in the distance that looked suspiciously like rats and very much like ‘no, thank you, not today’. The other way it was. Granny Rags wouldn’t use the same entrance as her rats, would she?

Seeing as she transformed into rats, she would. Still, Daud didn’t particularly want to face them now (or ever), or even get near them. To the left, before they could come any closer. Rulfio wouldn't fit through a rat-sized entry.

A few moments of searching showed him a small opening far above, one that seemed impossible to reach without a ladder. Was that what Slackjaw had mentioned, the potential way in they had discounted?

They really shouldn't have.

Transversing up, Daud found that it was a perfectly person-sized pipe, if said person was willing to crawl through it. If this was Granny Rags’ normal entrance, she was a lot more flexible than she looked.

If she’d had contact to the Outsider before, if she had her own Mark, that wasn’t too unbelievable.

This _friendly request_ was turning out to be a lot more trouble than he’d expected at the beginning. And he had expected a lot…

Another scream made him push himself forward faster. He had to reach Rulfio before anything else happened – he couldn’t let him suffer simply because Daud had made the mistake of talking and listening to the Outsider.

The pipe opened up into a spacious room, filled with rats and partially crumbling pillars. There was also Rulfio, Granny Rags, and the little boy who had led him to her. Thomas, had that been his name?

Daud should have seen this coming. Of course she’d take the kid as well…

Rulfio was trapped in a cage, rats crawling along the sides and snapping at him wildly, as if they were starving. Judging by Granny Rags’ creepiness factor, they most likely were. Some were chewing on the bars. Daud couldn’t exactly see if it was working but had the bad feeling they’d break soon.

Meanwhile, Granny Rags was standing in front of Thomas, who was stuck in some kind of child-sized pillory. Daud didn’t want to know why it existed in the first place. The rats surrounding him didn’t look particularly well-fed either. What was this, a picnic? 

That was really not a good thought.

“Now, my dear, you can tell me, you can tell your Granny. Is that the man you led to me? Is that the man you betrayed me to? And this time, tell the truth, or my birdies might decide they want a bite of you…”

Daud shivered. Her voice was still the sweetest-sounding poison he had ever heard spewing threats. It should be illegal. As illegal as feeding people to rats, at least.

He needed a plan, a functioning one this time. A way to distract Granny Rags long enough to free both Thomas and Rulfio…

Rulfio’s cage was open at the top, so getting him out would be easy, but Thomas… he was unprotected, and as soon as Granny Rags noticed something wrong, there was no telling what she’d do. What she’d make the rats do.

To be fair, Daud was pretty sure he knew what was going to happen. That didn’t mean he wanted to think about it.

“N-no, he’s not! I swear! Granny, I-”

“You betrayed me. You know what happens to dearies who betray me, don’t you? Naughty children go into the pot.”

The… the pot?

Now Daud spotted it - how had he missed it? Probably in his shock at seeing not only Rulfio but also Thomas. Still, looking past that oversized cooking pot, fire happily crackling underneath, steam rising from the surface... 

Had Granny Rags just threatened Thomas with cannibalism? Daud did his best to delude himself into thinking it was an empty threat. He had to act now.

A distraction, a distraction… what could he see?

A lever, close to the pillory, probably there to open it. Good, if he could get Granny Rags away from there. The fire from the cooking pot, if he could find a way to use it on the rats. What else?

A small hut in a corner, maybe with something useful in here. Just a short look for something he could use, to spread the fire, to do anything, but…

Would they be alright until then?

As he was thinking, Granny Rags moved from Thomas to Rulfio, smiling happily all the way. “Rulfio, my dear,” she greeted, and Daud would have been far more confused why she knew his friend _by name_ if he hadn’t been trying to find a way to save his life. He could always ask questions later, as long as he made sure there _was_ a later.

Hoping she’d do some more of her cat-and-mouse play (or was it rats, in her case? Rats eating cats and people?) Daud transversed towards the hut. There had to be something, anything. He couldn't take on Granny Rags and all of her rats the way he was now.

Whalesong and Void smell hit his senses like a brick to the face. Daud had experienced that only once, when he had gained his Mark. There were differences, subtle ones, a dissonance in the sound, but it was without a doubt the same. If he hadn't been sure before, this would have proven it: Granny Rags had ties to the Outsider.

The strongest source of the otherworldly experience was the pile of whalebone sitting on a table, partly carved into strange shapes. Daud wasn’t sure how he knew what it was, but it resonated with his soul in a strange and disturbing way. The air seemed distorted around some of the pieces, as if they were on fire, but somehow just looking at them made Daud feel cold. Whatever was going on there, it was nothing good and he wanted nothing to do with it.

Maybe a single touch...

Reaching out his hand, he brushed against the topmost piece of bone. Something unfolded in his mind, something he could almost touch, a bond that tried to find a connection...

Daud jumped back. Whatever this was, he wanted nothing to do with it. It felt too much like a trap set by Granny Rags. Maybe he'd come back for it later. Or stay away forever. That sounded good.

But there was something else, something… hidden. Something whispering with a different voice, of life and youth and dances and blood. Something not quite real, but not quite Void. 

Something behind the pillows on the ratty old chair in the middle of the room. Daud pushed them away, not caring where they ended up, until his fingers touched something smooth, cold, yet undeniably alive.

More bone, the cameo of a young woman, one who bore a passing resemblance to Granny Rags. Despite the magic surrounding it, it didn't sing the way whalebone did at Daud's touch. It screamed, laughed, spoke with far too many voices, filling his head, his mind, his…

The Mark on his hand lit up, burning through his eyes with a fiery glare that banished whatever curse lay on the cameo until it was just a piece of wood and bone again, filled with magic that couldn’t touch him.

For now.

This... this was her, somehow. This was Granny Rags. Daud didn't know how he knew this, but he could use it. With this cameo, he could control her, distract her, maybe even kill her. This had to be what the Outsider had sent him to find.

It was perfect.

Clutching the cameo, Daud hurried back out the house, the beginnings of another poorly thought-out plan forming in his mind. This one would have to do.

“I’m really not the one you’re looking for, Granny Rags,” Daud heard Rulfio assure her with quick, panicked words. “I’m telling you, I had no idea anyone would want to hurt you.”

His own heart beat just as fast. He wasn't too late yet. 

Granny Rags shook her head and moved away, mumbling words Daud couldn’t make out before raising her voice. “If you won’t stop lying to me, my dear, I’ll have to begin your punishments. Dearies! Listen up, Granny has a special treat for you today!”

Once again, all rats reacted at the same time, stopping what they were doing and raising their head. It was uncanny.

That was it. Daud wouldn’t let the rats hurt his friends more than they already had. He transversed into the cage as Granny Rags turned her back. Putting a hand on Rulfio's shoulder, he leaned down. “Distract her,” he whispered, “I have a plan.”

Hoping Rulfio was as trusting of strangers, masked or not, as his neighbors, Daud transversed back out, just in time for the other man to call out for Granny Rags.

“Granny! I… I’m sorry, you were right! It was me, it was, and I’m sorry! I didn’t want to hurt you!”

Daud let the lied apologies wash over him and transversed again, ignoring the burn in his hand and the drain on his mind. This was his chance, and it would last only as long as Rulfio’s acting could convince Granny Rags. He couldn’t waste it.

Transversing to the lever, Daud hoped Thomas wouldn’t call out for whichever reason, like a masked person appearing out of thin air in front of his eyes. People could be strangely disturbed by such occurrences.

He didn't. Daud wondered if he was paralyzed with fear.

The lever moved without resistance or noise, a small mercy. Behind him, Daud could hear a soft sound, like skin hitting stone, and a nearly inaudible huff. That sounded promising.

He turned, tuned back in to Rulfio’s ramblings, and realized the other man was starting to repeat himself. No time left, no time at all…

One transversal to grab Thomas and cover his mouth before he could alarm Granny Rags, a second and third one to carry them back to the pipe Daud had used to enter. They arrived just in time for the screaming to begin.

The noise was horribly, ear-splittingly high-pitched and cut deep down into Daud’s bones. It was as if the air itself had turned into a blade willing to deafen him by any means possible. Daud wondered if Granny Rags was using magic to scream like this or if this was her normal voice.

Not that he’d ever find out, or truly cared.

“Stay here,” he whispered to Thomas, “or at least don’t get lost in the sewers or eaten by rats.” Controlling children was something he was still not capable of doing, but he still had to put in some kind of effort.

Actually…

Giving away another knife to another prepubescent child was probably not the wisest decision he could make, but since said child was now trapped with rats on one side and rats and Granny Rags on the other, it seemed foolish to leave him without a defense. “Don’t cut yourself, cut the others,” Daud advised – wise words that had always served him well – before transversing back to his original perch.

The rats had multiplied, now covering every free inch of ground and gnawing at Rulfio’s cage even more furiously than before. Granny Rags was pacing, muttering, occasionally throwing glances at Rulfio.

Bad situation. He’d wanted to get Rulfio out of there before a confrontation, but now that seemed impossible. Or… was it?

Daud eyed the fire, still vaguely avoided by rats, and then pulled the cameo from the pocket he had carelessly stuffed it into. Slackjaw had said something of burning the rats Granny Rags turned into, but maybe…

It did look flammable. And it was trying to reach for his mind with its icy fingers again, so really, this was self defense.

“Who is it? Who is here, my dear? Tell your Granny, and you might keep your eyeballs.”

Daud had the uncomfortable feeling Rulfio wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything else. He also feared, just for a moment, that Granny Rags would be capable of keeping him _alive_ like that.

But no, that probably took it too far.

The cameo pulsed with power in his hand, a constant annoyance. This was it – he was never going to get a better opening for the stupidest thing he had ever done in his entire life, including making morally questionable deals with a mysterious deity whose name sounded vaguely insulting.

Transversing next to the cooking pot, far enough to feel the full heat of the fire underneath it without burning himself, close enough to avoid landing directly on top of a rat, Daud held out the the cameo like a shield and prayed this would work. This time he included the Outsider in his prayer. That bastard could do his part in this.

“That’s probably me. Nice to see you again, that knife to your face really did wonders for your complexion.”

There was absolutely no scar left, and Daud was filled with burning jealousy. Why couldn’t that be one of his abilities, getting rid of mortal wounds and scars?

Then again, it came with turning into rats. Not worth it.

Granny Rags turned, hissing. “It’s you! The naughty, uninvited guest! A  _ thief! _ ”  The last word was another screech that was either not human or not natural. “My dearies! Take back what belongs to Granny, and show him what happens to intruders like him!”

On that command, the rats skittered to one place, building up higher and higher, until…

“Oh, shit.” Daud threw the cameo to the side, hoping it’d hit the flames, and bolted, transversing as quickly as he could. His hand burned as he tried to increase the distance between himself and the living wave. No need to get crushed by a pile of rats today, not today. No time for that. Places to go, favors to get done with, friends to save...

One more time Granny Rags screamed, a literal shockwave centered around her scattering the rats and forcing Daud to his knees. His ears rang, seemingly filled with cotton wool, his head felt fuzzy, and his hand burned as if his Mark had caught literal fire this time. He really didn’t want to be caught alone in a dark alley with those lungs.

Or in the sewers. Right, he was in the middle of something, in the middle of…

Daud turned, just in time to catch sight of Granny Rags disappearing and the rats skittering away. Was it over? Had it… had it worked?

Maybe praying to the Outsider had been the wrong decision. Did he have to be thankful now? He didn’t want to thank him.

Oh, wait, he didn't have to. He’d done this as a favor, a fair deal, no thanks involved. And now he had a friend to save, no time to get hung up on thoughts like that. Besides, who knew if the bastard had even gotten off his high horse?

He transversed into Rulfio’s cage, this time noticing how it was barely big enough to fit both of them, and crouched down, looking for injuries. There were some stray spots of blood, some tears in his clothes, but nothing that required immediate attention.

Probably.

Daud would take a look at them anyway. He wasn't a doctor, far from it, but he did know how to patch up wounds. It had been rather important in his last life.

Rulfio’s lips moved, but Daud couldn’t understand what he was saying through the ringing in his ears. It was getting weaker, but Rulfio’s voice was so quiet… it probably wasn’t anything important. Besides, Daud couldn’t answer – from this distance Rulfio would know it was him. Before, it had been noisy with the rats, with Granny Rags, with everything that was going on. Daud had been further away, Rulfio had probably been distracted by his life being threatened – but now that things had calmed down, he didn't have that protection anymore.

He didn’t let himself react in any way as he pulled up Rulfio by his arm, slung it around his shoulder, and transversed them out of the cage and back onto the pillar it had all started on. His friend's warmth was a comforting weight on his back. He hadn't been too late, he had saved him. Nothing would ever happen to Rulfio ever again, not as long as Daud was alive.

The pillar that was not built to support two people, as he realized too late. The ground below Rulfio’s feet crumbled, he slipped, and Daud barely managed to catch him before he tumbled to the ground.

Daud held him tightly, closely, breathing heavily. Letting Rulfio fall after just saving his life and the integrity of his limbs? Never. Nothing could have made him let go in that moment, not even the threat of death.

Then he realized the position they were in, with Rulfio bent over backwards, pressed to his chest, as if they were dancing, caught in the moment of a very strange dip.

_ Oh. _

Daud felt his pulse speed up, his face flush, his hands grip tighter, unwilling to ever let go…

_ Oh! _

Well. This was rather unexpected. Daud seemed to have caught…  _ feelings.  _ This didn't seem like the right moment to realize this.

T he chuckle that escaped Rulfio’s mouth, reverberating in his chest,  was equally surprising . What was so amusing? Had he… had he noticed? But how?  He had hidden his identity, he...

“Stop me if you don’t want this.”

Didn’t want what? To let go? He wasn’t going to…

Hands touched his whaler mask and carefully tugged on it, making him freeze. He was taking off the- But why, he- The mask…!

“If you’re not Daud, this is going to be embarrassing,” he caught Rulfio muttering right before the only thing protecting his identity slipped away and he was exposed, staring at Rulfio with wide eyes.

As if he was answering the unspoken question, Rulfio rolled his eyes. “Did you honestly expect I wouldn’t recognise your a- you?”

Daud flushed even more. He didn’t think that much blood fit into his face, but he had been wrong before. About a lot of things, it seemed.

“You…” he tried to say before stopping. What was he supposed to do now? Drop him? Act like nothing had happened? Put on the mask again? Get closer to him?

Rulfio took that choice from him, slowly and carefully. He snuck his arm around Daud’s neck while he was stunned, pulled him down – or himself up, maybe, pulled them closer to each other – and brushed his lips against Daud’s.

Yes. This… Daud liked this. He pressed down, chasing the feeling of the other one’s lips, caught between cheering this was happening despite him not knowing he needed it just a few minutes ago and thinking he’d wake up at any second, all of this having been a dream, when…

“Are you done? Can we leave?”

Daud twitched, pulling Rulfio with him back to his feet, and looked for the one who had dared to interrupt them. Rulfio, still held tightly in his arms, chuckled. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere else.”

Slightly disappointed, but very much looking forward to the near future, Daud nodded. “Might be a good idea. We have to pick up the kid I found though.”

“I can hear you!” Thomas sounded like someone who was doing his best trying to suppress his excitement and bury it under annoyance but very much failing at the task. Daud grinned. That was the kind of feeling he tried to inspire in kids.

Not letting go of Rulfio for a single moment, he transversed up to the entrance pipe. “Time to go home.”

The joy in Thomas’ face vanished almost immediately. “Right…” He did not seem thrilled. It was possible he had misunderstood what Daud was trying to say.

“How do you feel about a roof over your head and a warm meal in your stomach?”

At this, he perked up again. “W-what?”

Daud smiled. He hoped Billie would like the kid. Every child wanted a sibling, right?


	10. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on.

That night, curled up on his sofa with Rulfio, Daud dreamed of the Void. The Outsider was looking down at him, floating in his usual space, lips forming a worryingly broad smile on his otherwise expressionless face.

“What an… interesting way you chose to deal with this, Daud. Do take care from now on, it would be a shame to lose you so soon.”

Daud sighed. “Either tell me what you want or leave, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“You have won…” The Outsider disappeared in a swirl of dark matter. “For now.”

Daud twitched at the voice suddenly coming from behind him. That overly dramatic bastard just kept finding ways to annoy him. Almost nothing was worse than someone sneaking up on him. “Figured that wouldn’t kill her,” he grumbled. “Thanks for the warning, can I go now?”

The ghost of a breath brushed his neck, and he shuddered. This was one of the things that were worse. Still, he refused to turn around. This was not a conversation, this was a bored trying to make himself seem important. A lack of reaction was all it took for Daud to win.

Said god chuckled. “You prayed to me today, a surprising turn of events.” Something cold touched Daud’s Marked hand, lighting a fire underneath the skin. He hissed, while the Outsider simply continued to speak. “You did find some runes, so I’ll take those as payment for this. Next time, though, you’ll have to use them properly instead of leaving them behind again.”

The Outsider’s presence faded, as did the burning sensation in the Mark. The Void stayed.

“Really?” Daud called out. “What’s this for?” Couldn’t the Outsider kick him out again? No matter how uncomfortable it was, having to stay here was worse by far.

A whale drifted by in the distance, singing its song. Nothing answered Daud. It didn’t surprise him.

Shifting his attention from his surroundings to possible escape routes, he frowned. There was something new in the mark, something soft that threatened to escape his grasp as soon as he focused. Something he could… use?

No, thank you, he'd had enough of the Outsider's attention and gift for today. Or the rest of his life.

Thinking hard about something else, anything else, his mind wandered to Rulfio almost immediately. He had…

Flushing, Daud shook his head. Looking back, he had tried to give so many signs that he was interested, and Daud had missed all of them. Even _Billie_ had known, and she’d met Rulfio only once. Daud would have said he felt like an idiot, but it was hard to do so knowing the other had snuggled up to him with a soft sigh and fallen asleep in his arms. The bliss didn’t leave much room for anything else.

The strand of power seemed to perk up, reaching for Daud the way he himself had tried before. As he met it halfway, a surge went through his body and somewhere else, a place he couldn’t see, sending him spinning out of the Void and back into his body.

He startled awake, almost hitting his head against Rulfio’s who had woken up as well. The light of his Mark was bathing the walls in fiery light, and for a moment Daud thought it was burning. But then it faded, reduced to two soft glows, then nothing.

Wait… _two_ soft glows?

Daud looked down at his hand, the Mark a prominent black that was somehow visible even at night, darker than whatever darkness the real world could produce. His eyes shifted to Rulfio’s, with no such discoloration on it. And yet he could have sworn…

“Daud,” Rulfio muttered, voice unsteady. “I… I don’t feel so good.”

And he was gone in a burst of ashes and the empty taste of Void.

Daud jumped up. Dread filled him as he looked around. “Rulfio…? Rulfio!” Was this what the Outsider’s new _gift_ did, turning people to dust?

No, that couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be that cruel, couldn’t… couldn’t have taken Rulfio from him.

Then again, it _was_ the Outsider...

Clenching his left hand into a fist, Daud drew on the Void as if he was going to transverse, but didn’t release it, holding the magic even as it burned him. The Mark lit up like the sun, illuminating the room and allowing him to look around searching for Rulfio – maybe he had still be dreaming, maybe he’d just left to get a midnight snack or something, until…

“Huh, that’s convenient.”

Daud turned so quickly something in his neck cracked. He winced. But there Rulfio was, whole, healthy, and most certainly not ash. And grinning so broadly it looked painful. “So is this.” He vanished again.

Rough hands cupped Daud’s cheeks and turned his head back, followed by a careful kiss.

“Is this what it’s always like? What did you do anyway?”

Daud blinked and fell back onto the sofa. “I… I don’t know.”

Was that it, the strange power? The ability to... share the Outsider’s gifts? Were there other powers? Was that what he had talked about, taking runes as payment? Daud remembered the strange singing whalebone. Should he have taken it with him?

Next time, if there was going to be such a thing. For now, he busied himself with watching Rulfio teleport all across his living room in the light of his own burning Mark. “You might want to take it slow,” he warned, just in time for Rulfio to appear in front of him again and fall face-first onto his lap.

“I’m dead,” the man muttered.

Daud rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his lips. If this was the result, the whole thing with Granny Rags had been worth it. Maybe.

“No, you’re not,” he responded, “and you’re not going to die either. Eat some fruit.”

“Too tired to get up.”

Of course. “I’ll go get you some.”

“No!” Rulfio’s arm shot out, pulling at Daud’s before he had even begun to move. “Too comfortable.”

Oh. Well then. His smile broadening, Daud ran his fingers through Rulfio’s hair. “If you say so.”

With a soft hum the other man settled into a more comfortable position “I do. Don’t stop that.”

Daud didn’t stop, and he listened to Rulfio’s breath even out again. This was good. He could stay like this forever, he thought as his own eyes closed again.

  


The sound of his alarm cut through his nice, not Void-related dreams, dragging him back to awareness far earlier than he would have preferred after last night. In his lap, Rulfio groaned, mumbling something about ‘five more hours’. Daud grinned, but shook his shoulder anyway. “I don’t think our employers will approve of you not showing up for work again,” he warned, earning a long sigh for his efforts.

“I was kidnapped,” Rulfio complained, lifting his head. “I can kidnap them if they want to know what it’s like.”

Daud paused. Actually, there were things they should probably talk about at some point, like that statement, Rulfio’s acquaintance with Granny Rags, his knowledge of Dunwall's underground dealings. Though… not now.

“That probably won’t work. Feel free to prove me wrong though.” Daud frowned, reconsidering. “Actually, don’t. I need that job.” How else was he going to feed Billie? That girl was capable of eating an entire horse if she decided she wanted to, he was convinced.

Rulfio let his head fall back down on Daud’s lap, miling so much Daud feared his face would split apart. “Alright, I won’t. Just for you.”

“Thank you.”

The position they were in was comfortable… too comfortable. Daud gave Rulfio a slight push. “Get off, I need to take Billie to school.”

Rulfio obeyed, crawling back to the other side of the sofa. “Right. Speaking of Billie, where is she?”

Shrugging, Daud got up and moved towards the door. “She’s with Samuel. Long story,” he added, remembering he hadn’t actually mentioned that meeting towards Rulfio yet.

A hum answered him, followed by, “where are you going?” A hand held onto the back of his shirt. Rulfio, Daud was slowly learning, could be incredibly clingy.

“I’m gonna change. Can’t show up to work like this.” He was, after all, still wearing most of his old assassin uniform.

“I don’t know, I like seeing you like this.”

Daud rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. I’ll see if I can find something that’d fit you too.” Maybe some of his baggier clothes. They’d already dressed the rat bites Rulfio hadn’t managed to avoid the night before, but that didn’t remove the bloodstains or holes, or made them any less painful.

He’d have to apologize properly for all of that, eventually. But Billie came first.

A few minutes later, Daud had put on fresh, normal clothes, thrown the biggest ones he could find at Rulfio and was currently considering Thomas. What were they going to do with him? They had to go to work, and Daud didn’t like the thought of leaving him alone. Not after everything that had happened with Granny Rags - the boy needed someone to support him right now.

Someone like Samuel? It might be asking a lot of that man,  who technically hadn't agreed to being babysitter for anyone , but it was worth a try. Maybe Daud could  pay him back him somehow.

 

 

Billie was woken up by the sound of quiet voices outside the cabin she had spent the night in, guided to sleep by the ship’s soft swaying. She yawned, rubbed her eyes, and frowned. It was already morning? That seemed impossible - she felt like she'd gone to sleep only a few minutes ago.

Though that could have been the fact that she’d been kept awake far past her bedtime thinking about Daud and what kind of trouble he’d gotten into. She didn’t want to lose him, not now that she had just found him. She didn’t need him, had proven it for years before meeting him, but she _wanted_ him alive. This was the life she had always dreamed of, and someone had endangered it, with nothing she could do to keep it.

Her hand gripped the knife hidden underneath her pillow harder.

But this was Daud, she reminded herself. He’d come in any second and tell her…

The door creaked. Someone knocked. “Good morning, Billie. Are you ready for school?”

Yes, just that. With a broad grin she jumped up and hugged him as soon as she realized he really had come. “Dad! You’re safe!”

He ruffled her hair. “Of course I am. You know me, can’t be killed.”

A snort sounded from a bit farther behind. “I second that. Your Dad has the confidence of an immortal.”

Billie’s head shot up. There was someone else? With a squeak she dove back underneath her covers. “Get out!” she shouted, blushing furiously. How could she have lost track of her surroundings so much that she had missed Daud wasn’t here alone?

Wait… _why_ wasn’t he here alone?

She got dressed as quickly as she could, packed up her belongings and stepped out on deck.

Four people. There were four people. She had missed three of them - a disgrace. Daud, of course, Samuel, who she really should have known about, Rulfio, who probably had absolutely no reason to be here (...had he been why Daud had asked Samuel if she could spend the night here? Billie was torn between being proud of her Dad for finally understanding what she had been trying to tell him as soon as she had met Rulfio and being mad at the other man for taking up some of her precious Dad time), and a small boy in dirty clothes, probably a few years younger than her. Huh, she didn’t know that one.

Time for introductions.

She walked up to the boy and grinned. “Hi, I’m Billie. That,” she pointed at Daud, “is my Dad. Do you want to be my minion?”

His expression, lighting up with curiosity at the mention of Daud, darkened. “I’m not a minion.”

Oh well, she didn’t need one anyway. “Partner, then?”

He frowned for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Partner sounds alright,” he said, carefully, as if he expected her to take back her offer. Which she was planning to do, in a way.

Billie grinned broadly. “What about brother?”

She wasn’t blind, she wasn’t stupid, and if Daud had brought this boy here to meet her, the boy who looked a lot like she herself must have looked just a few months ago, it could mean only one thing.

She’d always wanted a family, one that belonged to her, one she belonged to, and now it was growing. Who was she to complain? As long as she got to keep her Dad (away from Rulfio)...

From the stunned silence around her, no one else had gotten to that point yet. Oh well.

Billie turned towards Daud. “Dad,” she asked, “can we adopt him?”

The way he opened and closed his mouth without making a single noise, like a fish who had jumped out of the water and found no air, was absolutely priceless. Billie was already wondering how she'd get him to make that face again.

Behind her, Rulfio began to laugh. Maybe he wasn't too bad.

 

 

" My dear girl!" Granny smiled at her, the Empress of Thorns, her former student. Her own flesh and blood, almost. Royalty now! She wondered if all of her little birdies were as proud as she was. She had definitely earned it. 

"Granny." Delilah smiled. "How may I help you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it, for now. This is going to get a sequel eventually (probably - it's planned, it just has to be written), but this is where The First Favor ends.  
> I hope you enjoyed it :3


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